Rematch
by GreenYoda987
Summary: Fighting was supposed to help relieve stress, not add to it. Nyreen was in desperate need of some good, old-fashioned, turian stress relief; Aria just wasn't going to cut it after their run in with the Adjutants. What happens when she runs in to an old friend in the depths of Afterlife? FemShepxGarrus, past GarrusxNyreen. Spoilers for Omega DLC. Slightly AU. Rated M for smut.
1. Spars and Tussles

**This is just an idea I've had for a while and my mind just ran away with it; I actually posted a prompt on the kinkmeme hoping someone else would fill it, but to no avail, so I decided to write this story myself. It's a slightly AU version of the Omega DLC for Mass Effect 3 – warning: this story does contain spoilers for Omega DLC and Mass Effect 3. Rematch will focus on our favorite female turian who used to be a recon scout, our favorite awkwardly adorable male turian, and a jealous human commander. There will definitely be some smut at the end and some violence at the beginning; therefore, this story is rated M for mature content, violence, and language. **

**Sereneffect is fantastic! I would never have started either of my stories without her help and I definitely never would have published them. She deserves a huge thank you for encouraging me and editing my stories! ****Also, I want to thank everyone for reading! ** I'd love to know what you think, whether it's good or bad or anything in the middle! As usual, Bioware owns Mass Effect. 

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The only benefit of fighting Adjutants was their speed. While it didn't really make up for all the other horrors the Cerberus creations could inflict on a person, it was a nice change, fighting a mutated husk that moved at a snail's pace. Humans, turians, krogan… they all moved fast. And then the Reaper's mutations of those races… human husks, turian marauders, krogan brutes... worst were the asari banshees. They all had speed as their advantage; all of them moved fast, often fast enough that cover was essentially useless. Adjutants… they moved slowly. As long as you kept a decent distance between yourself and them – they had a nasty jump that could quickly overpower a person – you could take your time gunning them down. Pistols worked fine, even sniper rifles worked well. Hand-to-hand – her specialty – was definitely out of the question considering anything closer range than a pistol was a guaranteed death sentence. And not a pleasant one: Adjutants had some sort of mutation that allowed them to "infect" their victims with something akin to a virus, turning their victims into the same, mindless, husk shells. But as long as you kept yourself at a good distance, you could take them down with a fair amount of ease – assuming that a group of them didn't flank you. Which was the situation Nyreen Kandros found herself in on the stairs of Afterlife.

The doors of Afterlife had shut and locked, leaving dozens of people – civilians and the guards of Afterlife – trapped on the outside of the club; they were all rapidly scrambling backwards, trying to put as much space between themselves and the mutated Cerberus creations. Nyreen hadn't thought, she'd simply acted. She had leapt off the catwalk that ran around the top of Omega's central "city" – if you can call it that – landing a dozen or so yards away from the rapidly growing group of mutants. She counted twelve of them. Jamming a fresh thermal clip into her pistol, she rushed over towards the entrance of the nightclub and aimed a few shots into the fluid-filled sac on the back of one of the Adjutants, successfully gaining the creature's attention. A batarian guard, who had been struggling to fend off the beast, took that opportunity to reload his pistol and apply some medi-gel to a laceration on his arm, before turning his gun on a Cerberus trooper that was gaining ground. The distracted Adjutant turned towards Nyreen and started lumbering over, shooting off biotic blasts, which, thankfully, weren't too hard to dodge. Bolstering her barrier slightly, Nyreen shot off a few more rounds, successfully taking the creature down. It wasn't normally that easy; the batarian must have gotten a few good shots on the thing.

_One down, eleven to go…_

A movement to her right caught her attention; Jane Shepard and Aria T'Loak rushed in through the doors, gunning down Cerberus troops and Adjutants alike. But before either of them had time to find any sort of cover, a Cerberus sniper took aim at Shepard, hitting her in the shoulder; she stumbled backwards briefly as her shields went down, leaving her open to further attacks. Nyreen rapidly turned towards where the shot had originated from, letting off a biotic blast, sending the sniper sprawling backwards; she took the opportunity to aim her pistol at the soldier's head, burying two bullets between his eyes. As she watched the man fall to the ground, a horrible screech sounded to her left, making her jump; an Adjutant had snuck up on her while she was focused on the human commander and the Cerberus sniper. She brought her arms around, throwing out another biotic pulse that propelled the Adjutant backwards at the same time a sniper round from Shepard's Mantis tore through the beast's head, spattering blue blood on the stairs. The creature crumpled and Nyreen took the moment to pump a couple more rounds through the area where she assumed the monstrosity's brain would be, just for good measure; these things had an unnatural amount of health beneath their biotic barriers and this was no time to assume the best. She nodded her head in thanks towards Shepard, who returned the gesture with a nod of her own; Nyreen turned her attention to another one of the creatures who was hulking over towards two batarian guards at the door, one of whom was frantically trying to stop the blood gushing from his arm while simultaneously shooting at the Adjutant.

That was one of the reasons she preferred to work alone; she could focus solely on the mission and civilians, without having to worry about her squad's safety. Her reconnaissance work with the turian Cabals had proven time and time again that solo work was just generally safer and more efficient; you didn't have to rely on anyone else and you didn't have to worry about the lives of any of your squad mates. Working solo just negated dozens of potential problems, like misunderstanding between commander and subordinate, plan miscommunications, and general disagreements; there were just too many variables. Nyreen had never particularly worked well in groups. Even back in the turian military, she always had a tendency to get irritated with the rest of the crew; more than once she'd taken her anger out on fellow crew members in the ring. Luckily for her, commanding officers in the turian military understood the benefits of sparring. Working alone… negated all these issues. She didn't blame Jane Shepard for getting shot by the Cerberus sniper, but she did slightly resent the need to take her focus off the immediate threat, taking the time to make sure the Commander wasn't seriously injured. It was a necessary choice, but a choice that took her focus off the primary mission: the civilians currently cornered by the mutants.

The two batarian guards were driving round after round into the head of one of the creatures, trying in vain to put some space between the civilians and the approaching Adjutant. Two more of the beasts were stalking over towards the guards; they would soon be over run. She turned briefly to try to locate Shepard and Aria; she wouldn't be able to take on three of these creatures by herself. She found them by the entrance to the elevator shaft, taking down two more of the monstrosities; they were working well together. Aria didn't usually take orders too well, but she seemed to yield to Jane Shepard a bit. In all honesty, it was probably just one of her methods to accomplish her own goals; Aria wasn't one to simply defer to another's methods. The asari was currently throwing reaves out at the encroaching mutants while Shepard peppered them with gunfire. Nyreen turned her attention back to the two batarians. Four more Adjutants were closing in, bringing the total up to seven surrounding the two batarian guards, who were currently the only line of defense between the mutants and the unarmed civilians gathered around the locked doors of Afterlife. There wasn't time.

She ran forward, snatching up a strip of grenades from a fallen Cerberus trooper, and brought her pistol up, unloading a few rounds into the circle of Adjutants. They all turned, starting towards her; they seemed to have some penchant for fighting those that proved to be more of a threat. She backed away, ejecting one empty thermal clip and slamming home another; she was just trying to get them away from the doors, away from all the unarmed, innocent men and women. Nyreen glanced back towards the elevator shaft and her eyes briefly met Shepard's. Steeling her resolve, she positioned one taloned finger over the pin of one of the grenades, slowly shaking her head towards the human Commander. Shepard froze momentarily, understanding flickering across her face, before she bolted out of cover and started charging toward the turian woman, aiming shots at anyone who came across her path, simply trying to push them back enough so that she could reach Nyreen.

"Aria!" Shepard shouted frantically. _This wasn't the plan!_ she thought desperately.

Aria's eyes shot over to Shepard who had rushed out of cover and started off across the way, her absence gone completely unnoticed by the asari; she followed the commander's trajectory with her eyes, which ultimately landed on Nyreen. The Talon leader bent down, bracing herself on one knee, holding a band of grenades; Aria watched in horror as the turian biotic threw up a shield, encompassing herself and all the Adjutants near her. She was going to sacrifice herself. For a few batarians and humans. _I knew her soft heart would get her in trouble. _Aria desperately tried to move past the encroaching mutants but they had her pinned; she could barely pop her head out from behind the wall before she was hit with either gunfire or a blast from an Adjutant. Ducking back behind the low wall once again, she hissed, silently praying to the Goddess that Shepard would reach Nyreen in time. A biotic pulse from one of the Adjutants hit right above her head, shattering some of the rock and forcing her to dive down, trying to put a little more space between her and the creatures. Cerberus troops were making their way towards her as well, her previously held position failing rapidly after Shepard's sudden departure.

Nyreen's gaze switched between Aria and Shepard, both of whom were taking heavy fire. She didn't like being unable to help her squad out – as much as she resented the need to focus on them, she did care. But the civilians demanded her attention; they had no chance of survival without her help. She hadn't planned on going out this way… The same thought that was coursing through Shepard and Aria's head, pushed to the forefront of her own mind. _This wasn't the plan; this wasn't supposed to happen like this…_

Shepard staggered slightly as a round from a Cerberus troop grazed her shoulder but she pushed forward towards the turian biotic. _Just a few more feet…_ she chanted in her head. She couldn't let Nyreen go out like this. This wasn't in the plan. Shepard liked Nyreen; she was… brutal in a militaristic way, but still held on to her morality. Soldiers like her were hard to come by. She knew the risks of war and knew that sacrifices were necessary, more often than not. However, she held a similar belief that Shepard herself held: save as many as possible and always put yourself in the path of a bullet meant for a squad mate or civilian. That was the job of a commanding officer. That was what was expected of all soldiers. However, as Shepard herself had found out one too many times, when death was staring someone in the face, a shocking majority of people found themselves succumbing to fear and doing whatever was necessary to save their own lives. Nyreen wasn't like that. Shepard respected that immensely. She admired that. However, in her current position, Shepard found Nyreen's sense of morality to be… slightly irritating. There had to have been another way. She could have drawn them away with fire and they could have taken them down one by one; she could have simply thrown the grenades and told the men, women, batarians, and whoever else was huddled by the door to run. There had to have been another way, other than her sacrificing her own life. Not when so many were counting on her… The way she got others to rally to her was impressive. She cared. And not about her power or her leadership. She truly cared about the people of Omega. This station needed someone like her: someone to keep Aria in check.

She watched as Nyreen's barrier descended the whole way, sealing itself against the ground; it would keep the blast safely enclosed while also intensifying the explosion. There was no way anyone inside that barrier would survive, Nyreen included. Shepard sprinted the last few yards, pushing her already exhausted legs past the breaking point, and reached out. She watched in horror as Nyreen pulled the pin with her other hand, frantically motioning for Shepard to move back. Shepard shook her head though, and tried to break through Nyreen's barrier to drag the woman out; it wouldn't budge. She aimed her pistol and shot two rounds into the barrier. Nothing. Seconds seemed to pass in slow motion. She stared at Nyreen, trying to silently implore her to find some other way. Luck, for once, seemed to be on her side as her frantic movements on the outside of the barrier distracted the Adjutants momentarily. They all turned to glance at Shepard, ignoring the turian holding the grenades and Shepard took the moment to meet Nyreen's gaze once again. One final, silent plea.

_Aria needs you. The people of Omega need you._

All of a millisecond passed, before Nyreen made the conscious decision. She let her barrier fall, dropping the strip of grenades on the ground in the center of the Adjutants, and bolted out of the circle. She ran backwards, crashing against the doors of Afterlife. She twisted, before she even regained her balance, and threw up another barrier; this one was weaker than the last since she was on the outside of it but, hopefully, it would do the job. It wouldn't be a complete enclosure, but maybe she could wrap it around so it would be strong enough to contain the majority of the blast – or at least, maybe she could prevent the blast from blowing backwards towards the civilians. Moments passed before everything erupted in a flash of blue and orange. Surprisingly, her barrier held. For the most part. The blast blew out the back slightly, spilling from the weaker side of the barrier, sending Shepard sprawling backwards, the back of the woman's head slamming into a low wall. A harsh groan sounded over the comm as Shepard reached up, holding the back of her head while stars burst in front of her eyes. Nyreen glanced quickly around the area, confirming that no one had died from the impact. In fact, it seemed that the only injured party was the commander. _No civilian casualties… _At least that part of the plan worked. The other part… Well, five of the seven Adjutants were just piles of burnt, mutilated flesh, slowly disintegrating into ash; however, the other two started lumbering towards the civilians again. Bits of their external armor had been blown off and one was missing one of the sacs on the back of its head. Nyreen scrambled back, trying to locate her pistol as Shepard started frantically shooting the two creatures from the other side, her gun shaking slightly in her hand; the commander was trying to hit their sacs, their joints, or anything that might immobilize them momentarily, allowing Nyreen to put a little more space between herself and the creatures. If one were to jump right now… A chill shot through Shepard at the thought. Nyreen seemed to have the same idea, as she quickly propelled a pulse towards them, pushing them back momentarily.

"Nyreen, I could use a little help!"

Nyreen's head snapped towards the voice. Aria was pinned by Cerberus troops, taking heavy fire, while the last Adjutant slowly made its way over to her. _Spirits, this is why I work alone!_

"Go, I got these two!" Shepard yelled, seemingly reading Nyreen's mind as she reloaded her pistol and charged forward into the fray. It was phenomenal how much strength and will the small, delicate, fleshy human possessed. _If she didn't care so much about casualties – even if for the greater good – she'd probably make a good turian. _

Nyreen pushed herself up off the ground and bolted across the way, sliding into cover behind another low wall. She retrieved the assault rifle from her back and aimed it at the Adjutant, maintaining a steady stream of fire on the creature's back. It toppled over finally, her incendiary rounds burning through its tough outer hide. Once she confirmed that the Adjutant was indeed dead, she turned her attention to the remaining Cerberus troops, taking them out quickly. She would take a Cerberus takeover any day, rather than taking on Adjutants up close again. The twisted tentacles that sprouted from where their mouths should be in combination with their perverse mechanical joints made them more gruesome than fearsome; they were definitely not something she wanted any more experience dealing with. When the last of the Cerberus troops fell, Nyreen jerked her head back to where Shepard had been; relief washed over her when she saw the Commander reaching a hand down to help an injured batarian up from the floor. No more Adjutants in the area. _Thank the Spirits._

She released a heavy sigh, dragging a taloned hand down her face. _Fighting is supposed to help relieve stress, not add to it_, she thought miserably. She would have to find someone to blow off some steam with after this was all over. Maybe… she'd bring it up with Aria… Then again, that would probably add more tension than it would relieve. More likely, she'd just grab one of Aria's faithful turian guards to spend some quality time with, in the back of the VIP section. That's what she needed: a quick, rough, angry tussle with a turian. Didn't Shepard mention something about having a turian on board the _Normandy_…?

She shook her head, derailing her thoughts as she tried to brush off the grime on her armor a bit. She grabbed a spare thermal clip from where it had fallen on the ground – they would probably need as many as they could get a hold of – and then walked over to the stairs and grabbed her discarded pistol. She strode over to where Shepard was and bent down, offering some medi-gel to an injured human who gratefully accepted it. The civilians were starting to gather together by the stairs, probably assuming that it was the safest area for the time being since there was an Alliance Commander, an ex-turian military Cabal scout, and a… pissed off asari princess who came to reclaim her throne. Nyreen was reaching over to help another man to his feet when Aria came striding over, clapping her on the back. That was the closest thing to a sentimental "I'm glad you didn't die" as she would likely get from the asari. Aria didn't even pause after patting Nyreen on the back; instead she just strode forward, calmly but furiously, overriding the lock on the doors of the club. They opened slowly, jerking now and then from the damage the place had already sustained. Aria turned, looking back at Shepard and Nyreen, and gave them a sharp jerk of her head, motioning towards the bowels of Afterlife where General Oleg Petrovsky was currently safely tucked away. He was hiding out, while the rest of his troops did his dirty work. Hiding out in Aria's palace. Nyreen was sure that wouldn't last long. He had failed to follow the one rule of Omega: Don't fuck with Aria.

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**What did you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts, whether they are good or bad!**

**For those of you that are wondering, I'm still working on my other story, Fathers and Daughters! I've been battling a case of writer's block for the next chapter, but writing Rematch has given me some inspiration so hopefully I'll be able to conquer it and get the next chapter finished!**


	2. Reclaiming What's Mine: Part 1

**Chapter 2, Reclaiming What's Mine, is broken into two parts. I'm planning on posting the second part within a day or two once I get the ending tweaked to my liking. As I mentioned in chapter 1, this is a slightly AU version of the Omega DLC and Nyreen is present during the final assault on Afterlife, joining in the fight against General Petrovsky; therefore, certain dialogue is altered a bit and the fight scene is a tiny bit different. I'd definitely like to know what you guys think about the fight scene; I'm fairly new to writing action sequences, so I'd really appreciate some critique, good or bad. **

**Thanks again to Sereneffect, who edited this story for me. She's marvelous and I'm so thankful she has the time to beta my stories. She has four active stories of her own right now, so I'm thrilled she's able to take the time to beta Rematch and Fathers and Daughters. Thank you so much Sereneffect! And, thank you to all my readers! I hope you enjoy this chapter; I had a blast writing it! **

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"Petrovsky dies, now." Aria stormed past the first set of doors, entering the hallway that was usually bustling with her guards and drunks that had been kicked out of the club. Chairs were overturned, empty thermal clips lined the floor, and wiring hung from shattered monitors. The doors at the other end of the hallway were locked as well, keeping them on the outside once again. _The General must really not want Aria to find him… _Nyreen thought. She shared a look with Shepard as Aria started furiously hacking the door – when Omega's one governing rule was broken, the consequences were usually harsh.

Cerberus had done a much more thorough job on this set of doors, setting up three separate locking codes that Aria would have to override to even get the doors to unlock. Spirits knew whether or not they would open after being unlocked; this place was so wrecked and broken, nothing looked fully functional.

Shepard went over to talk to the asari for a moment, while Nyreen took a minute of her own to sit down in a charred chair, reloading her pistol and assault rifle – there was no telling what kind of "guards" Petrovsky might have defending his hideout. She shuddered, silently imploring the Sprits for the inside of the club to be bereft of Adjutants. She wouldn't be surprised though if it wasn't; if she were in the General's position, she would bring every heavy trooper and mutated creation she had, putting as many bodies between herself and the asari. Aria had never been one to easily forgive, and in a situation like this… the General would be lucky to make it out in any form other than a corpse. She herself had spent years avoiding Aria's detection, simply not wanting to deal with the asari's wrath. _He never should have stepped on this station… _For Aria it was all about reclaiming her power, reclaiming what she viewed as hers; for Nyreen, it was simply about preventing more avoidable deaths. Too many had already suffered at the hands of Cerberus. If she could help it, no one else would have to die today. Assuming she could stop Aria from actually killing Petrovsky, which was a tall order.

A slight shuffling sound dragged her attention away from her guns and thoughts; Shepard was striding over, her eyebrows creased and her mouth turned down in a frown. She dipped her head down a bit, once she reached the chair Nyreen was sitting in, trying to meet the turian's eyes.

"Hey, you okay?" the human commander asked.

"Yeah. Little shaken, but nothing debilitating. How's the head?" Nyreen replied, gesturing with a nod while she continued to work the thermal clip into her pistol. It seemed her pistol had taken a bit of a beating during the explosion outside Afterlife; bits of the metal were slightly melted, making the thermal clip harder to jam in. _That's going to be challenging once we get inside…_

"Little sore, but nothing I haven't dealt with time and time again. I'm glad you're okay. We need soldiers like you… especially in this war."

"I know, Commander, but… can you blame me? What would you have done?"

Shepard sighed, her mouth pressed into a thin line. "Same thing, probably. I'm just glad it didn't come down to that," she said, shifting her eyes over to the still locked door of Afterlife, staring at Aria's back. "Besides… regardless of her coldshoulder, I think Aria really cares about you."

"Sure, but does she care about my gun or what I can do in her bed?" When Shepard went to respond, Nyreen just shook her head, cutting her off. "Don't worry about it, Commander. It's not that I don't care about her – I still do in a way. It's just… we didn't work out for a reason. She wanted… things I couldn't give her; things I couldn't be. I'm not as… severe as she is. She seems to think the world is only colored in black and white. _Nothing _is ever black or white. Like this situation; the civilians, Cerberus, the war... It's all grey. She doesn't know what to do with grey."

Shepard made a face, rolling her eyes and then erupting into a huge smile; it was the first real smile Nyreen had ever seen the soldier make. "I've heard that before. She sounds like she'd get along with a member of my crew – funny since he lived on Omega for almost two years, but I don't think they crossed paths much. He still has trouble dealing with the 'grey' areas of life." Her smile faded a bit as she stared past Nyreen, seemingly lost in thought. Sighing, the woman finished, "And, while it would be easier… nothing is ever black and white."

"Sounds like this human needs to meet Aria, maybe go for a round with her…"

Shepard made a face but never got around to saying what was on her mind; the doors to Afterlife opened slowly, groaning in protest, as Aria finished overriding the last of the locks. They only parted a foot or so though, before they slammed to a halt, stuck on some broken shards of metal jutting out from the ceiling. Shepard jogged over, heaving herself in between the metal doors before they had a chance to crash shut again; she planted her feet one side of the opening, her shoulders pressing back into the other door. After a moment of struggling, they opened a bit more, allowing Nyreen and Aria to slip through, Shepard following closely behind. Aria had her pistol out and ran forward, stopping just short of the circular core in the center of the club. Cerberus propaganda littered the monitors, overriding the advertisements for asari dancers and the VIP section of the nightclub. There was no movement though; the only sound that echoed through the room was the mix of their own breathing and the fizzling sound that was coming from disconnected wiring. Utter silence was never a good sign.

A booming voice suddenly sounded from overhead, drawing their attention. All three of them looked up, aiming their pistols towards the voice and finding Petrovsky standing next to a railing in front of the main control room of Afterlife. What used to be Aria's throne was now blocked off by force field generators and two, heavy metal doors. The General sauntered forward slowly, almost casually; did he really expect to be able to walk out of here unharmed? Or did he just expect Aria to leave, after she had finally come this far?

"It's a shame all those civilian and Talon members had to die for your petty ambition Aria… This station is so empty now… hardly in need of a leader anymore."

"You're a dead man!" Aria screamed as she rushed forward, her body bursting in a blaze of blue, biotics sparking from her arms and legs as she ran; she aimed careless shots at the General, all of which bounced harmless off the walls behind him. She leapt forward, her biotics carrying her over the center of the club –

"Aria, wait! Don't!" Shepard yelled, looking at the generators strategically placed around the core of Afterlife, taking the place of the dancers usually occupying the stage. It was too late though, and Aria halted, mid-leap, suddenly trapped in a biotic stasis field; the generators had activated, reacting to the asari's own biotics, and captured her, leaving her suspended and spread-eagled in mid-air. Her back arched – from pain or from frustration, Shepard couldn't tell – and her scream echoed loudly through the room.

Nyreen rushed forward, immediately examining one of the four generators for an override mechanism, or anything to release Aria. She found nothing and her fist came slamming down on the generator in fury. The turian huntress looked over to Shepard, her eyes wide in anger and… fear? Taking a deep breath to try to calm herself a bit, Shepard turned back to the General.

"What now, Petrovsky?" she asked, still aiming her pistol at the leader of the Cerberus occupation.

"Divide and conquer, Commander. The Adjutants your friend here" – he motioned to Nyreen with his head – "killed were still being experimented on. You have put a horrible hindrance on our tests… But nevertheless, these are fully under our control – the prototypes for our future army." He brought a finger down on the console, activating the force fields surrounding Aria's seized throne, keeping him safely inside Cerberus's command center while a door swooshed open below him. Two Adjutants flew into the room, their jumps allowing them to quickly encroach on Shepard and Nyreen. _These look more advanced… _She couldn't take that thought any farther though, as a group of Cerberus assault troops followed the Adjutants in, immediately flanking them and peppering them with gunfire. _Great, now the Adjutants have a specific target: us rather than simply non-Adjutants. _

"Nyreen, find cover!" Shepard yelled, leaping to her right and out of the way of a biotic blast from one of the Adjutants; she ran up a small set of stairs, taking cover behind a low wall which ran the length of the circular walkway. She was in one of the corners of the massive room; there was a column that would provide great cover, but would also render her mostly blind to the rest of the room. She opted to take her chances and snuck over quickly, standing up behind the support, popping her head out. Nyreen was across the room, steadily working her way backwards, taking cover behind any couches or chairs that she could; one of the creatures was steadily approaching her, pelting her with blasts at every turn. Luckily for the turian, all of the Cerberus troops seemed to be focusing their attention on the human Commander. Shepard peered around the other side of the column, quickly taking down an assault trooper that was getting far too close for comfort. A corner was nowhere to get flanked.

A shrill screech sounded from her right and Shepard whipped her head around, coming face to face with an Adjutant. _Damn their jumping ability! _She scrambled backwards, her shields failing rapidly because of the gunfire showering her back. The creature let off a massive blast, frying everything mechanical in the area. The Adjutant jumped, but Shepard rolled out of the way, scrambling to her feet and backing up the other way, towards the stairs. A small light flickered midway up the support column to her left, and it was only now that Shepard noticed there was a small console attached to the support beam. She didn't have time to ponder that though, as the mutant turned and started toward her again.

"Their biotics fry the consoles! Override the control and take out that generator!" Nyreen screamed from across the room.

The predicament she'd left Aria in came rushing back to Shepard; she had been so preoccupied with the mutated horrors that she had completely forgotten about the trapped asari. Shepard turned towards the column, trying to figure out how to get the Adjutant away from it. There was no way the override would be quick, whether the biotic blast fried the circuitry or not… She continued backing up, alternating shots between the husk creature and another Cerberus trooper. The trooper finally fell and the Adjutant took that moment to jump. Shepard bounded to the side at the last moment and the monstrosity went tumbling down the stairs. She rushed over to the column, slamming her hand down on the console. She was right… this would take forever. After five agonizing seconds, with enemies steadily zeroing in on her, the console beeped. The override was successful. She decided to take her chances out of cover, and charged down the walkway, leaping over toppled chairs and spare thermal clips. When she got to the other corner, she peeked out from over the wall she had taken cover in, looking towards the center of the room, where Aria was trapped. Nothing had happened. _Dammit!_

"Nyreen, it didn't work! The generator is still running!"

"Spirits! Try to shoot it, maybe the shields are down!"

Shepard popped out of cover and aimed some shots at the generator closest to her. Nothing. She turned her pistol and unloaded the rest of the rounds into the generator on the far side of the platform, the generator that was closest to the fried console. It sputtered and sparked after a few moments, releasing Aria's right leg.

"You can't stop us so easily, Petrovsky!" Aria screamed, thrashing her free leg around, trying to gain any sort of leverage. It was futile though, as one leg and both her arms were still bound by the stasis field.

Shepard rushed forward, seeing if the shields to any of the other generators had shut down with that override, but none had. It looked like there were three more consoles in the room they had to find and override. "One down, three to go!"

"It's progress – Shepard! Watch your back: snipers!"

_Dammit! _Shepard jerked around, not used to having to watch her own six, and took a blind shot to the area where she had come from. She hadn't had to worry about her own back for years; Garrus had never allowed anyone to get close. And now she was in a room filled with Cerberus troops and snipers that could sneak up on her from any angle. While _her _sniper was safely back on the _Normandy. _Shepard silently swore at Omega's queen for demanding she not bring any of the _Normandy'_s own crew members on this mission. Cerberus snipers weren't something to mess around with. One good shot and your shields were taken all the way down, and usually, you ended up with a graze or laceration as well. A second shot from them… most people wouldn't be walking away. She'd been hit before and it took her a few days to recover fully, even with all her advanced cybernetics. And she had no help at the moment, from her absent squad or the female turian who was currently taking on an Adjutant by herself.

The sniper – Nemesis was what everyone called them; a fitting name for their talents – ducked behind cover herself, trying to avoid the Commander's wild shots, and Shepard took the time to dive behind the closest set of stairs. Reaching around and switching out her pistol for her shotgun, she peered around the wall of the stairs, trying to get a good idea of where the sniper was hiding. A shot whizzed past her head, interrupting her thoughts; she turned around only to come face to face with another trooper. _This is getting ridiculous!_ She swung her gun around, pulling the trigger twice and blasting the trooper back. This was the reason she loved shotguns. Much more close and personal – usually how her missions went anyway. Once she confirmed he was down, she turned to try to spot Nyreen; they had to get at least one of these Adjutants down. With snipers moving around the room, two Adjutants were just too much of a risk in such a small space.

She located her at the opposite corner, down the walk way, bombarding the creature with biotic blasts while simultaneously trying to dodge the blasts it sent her way. Shepard rushed forward, hoping that maybe they could take this one down together; if they succeeded, that would just leave the remaining troops and one Adjutant… Assuming the General – who kept shouting taunts and orders out from over the railing – didn't have any more surprises up his sleeve. She reached Nyreen and started pelting the mutated husk with shotgun blasts, steadily forcing him backwards. He crouched though, as he reached the wall at his back, and leapt forward, sending off another massive pulse that overrode the console in the nearby column. Shepard and Nyreen both jumped out of his trajectory, but his hand reached out towards the turian biotic, grazing her shoulder; she latched on to Shepard's hand, trying to prevent being dragged to the ground. Quickly regaining her balance, Nyreen rushed over to the console and overrode the shield generator while Shepard turned and focused her attention on the creature, trying to place her body between the huntress and the beast. The Adjutant slammed into the wall and Shepard started pumping blast after blast into the beast's sacs, until it finally crumpled to the ground, a horrible stench and smoke overflowing from its body.

"This console's down!" Nyreen yelled, ducking down to replace the thermal clip in her rifle.

Shepard nodded in acknowledgement, already rushing forward toward the generator. A few shots from her shotgun, and the thing exploded, releasing Aria's other leg.

"I will kill you all!" she screamed, thrashing her legs around. The asari's arms were still trapped in the stasis field, leaving her lower body to twist and contort in the air.

"Two more! I'm moving right, you go left!" Shepard yelled to Nyreen. She hoped that with only one Adjutant left, and a slew of Cerberus troopers, they would each be able to handle their own. A shot zipped past her head, alerting her to the Nemesis still lurking around the room. _Shit, there's still a sniper somewhere in here. _She ran forward, reaching the adjacent column, and threw herself into cover behind the support. She looked behind her, realizing in frustration that this console was still fully functional, and to her extreme relief – or displeasure, she wasn't sure – there was no Adjutant nearby to fry the mechanics. However, at that moment, Aria let off a massive biotic pulse of her own, which engulfed the entire room in a blaze of blue.

"Watch out! Aria's trying to overload the system!" Petrovsky yelled. "Hold the perimeter!"

Shepard glanced back behind her and saw the glorious blinking red light that signaled the malfunction of this console. She quickly overrode it, disrupting the shields to the generator synced up with it. _Now, just to take that one out, and then one more…_

Her shields failed and her omni-tool started bleeping out a warning signal; one more hit and she'd be down. She sank to the floor, hoping that the sniper wasn't too close and that no one was around the corner. She should have known better; she'd already had her allotted luck for the day. The month. Or the year. Whichever way you wanted to look at it. The remaining Adjutant jumped past the corner, turning and locking its dreadful eyes on her. She rolled out of the way, down towards the stairs as it let loose a blast that took a chunk out of the support beam. She pushed herself up and took a few shots at the thing before turning and bolting towards the center of the room, bypassing the club's core and the unshielded generator completely. The troopers were all gathered in the corner she had just been in, giving her just enough time to get in cover, snap her shotgun to her lower back, and retrieve her pistol. Reaching down and grabbing another thermal clip, she ejected the used one, jammed a fresh one home, and lined up her shot; she unloaded the full clip into the generator, successfully taking it out. Aria's left arm was freed, leaving her hanging by her right.

"Shepard, clear the room! I got this one!" Nyreen yelled from the other corner as soon as she had seen the commander successfully take out the second to last generator. The turian biotic levered her assault rifle up, aiming it at an approaching Adjutant, trying to taunt it into heading her way. She wasn't counting on Aria being able to overload the system again. She emptied the last of her clip into the beasts belly and reached down… only to find she didn't have another clip. Her pistol was lying unusable somewhere on the other side of the room, a thermal clip jammed awkwardly – and uselessly – in the gun. Lesson learned: guns don't survive explosions. She tossed her assault rifle to the side and bolstered her barrier, bracing for a hit. But the Adjutant didn't jump; it just kept lumbering forward towards her. Spirits knew she wasn't going to be "infected" by the creature. She would _not _go out like that. She backed up a bit more, the back of her knees slamming in to a chair; she had to throw a hand back, bracing herself against the chair so she wouldn't collapse into it, leaving her momentarily defenseless from the creature's assault.

The Adjutant seemed to sense her brief stumble, and launched itself towards her, knocking into her and forcing her to fall to the ground, the beast landing partially on top of her. She jerked her legs out from underneath it, before it had a chance to grab on to her, and she started backing up the other way, now simply trying to put more space between herself and the creature. It regained its footing though, and turned towards her, setting its eerily blue eyes on her; it made a snorting noise before sending off a blast that hit her square in the chest, sending her flying backwards once again. _It wasn't supposed to go like this, _she found herself thinking for what seemed like the dozenth time tonight. Her back slammed into a couch that had been upturned and she rolled off it, landing a few yards away from the creature. She frantically looked around, trying to find anything to kill the thing – Shepard was on the other side of the room playing hide-and-seek with the Cerberus sniper, well out of helpful range. _She was quick to take the rest of those troopers down. No wonder Aria wanted her help… _Nyreen's eyes finally landed on a grenade strapped to another fallen Cerberus trooper. With no other choice, she grabbed the thing, pulled the pin, threw it towards the creature; she rolled, headfirst, down a set of stairs, hoping beyond hope that her barrier would hold. The resulting blast blew her backwards, knocking the wind out of her, but successfully took the creature out, both of the sacs on its back ruptured. She scrambled upright, and rushed back over to the column, working on the console until the shield on the last generator fizzled and died. She reached down to retrieve her pistol… only to realize that she had no guns and no ammo on her. _Spirits, dammit!_

"Shepard! The last shield's out, but both of my guns are gone!"

"I'm hit, so I'm not going to be much help until I get this bleeding stopped," she replied roughly, her voice harsh through her gritted teeth. Nyreen watched as she popped her head out from behind the last column, aiming a weak shot at the Nemesis across the way. _Spirits!_

Bolstering her barrier once more, Nyreen ran over to where the human commander was hiding, stopping in her tracks when she saw the woman's leg. Blood was gushing from a massive hole in her thigh's armor and the woman was pressing her hand into the wound, probably trying to stem the flow of blood; it looked horrible though, her fingers digging into her flesh. _How is she still conscious?_ As Nyreen bent down, trying to remove the commander's fingers so she could assess the wound and apply some medi-gel, she found herself wondering how humans managed to survive this long. With no external plating, it was a miracle they managed to live past the first minute in a gun fight, let alone save the entire galaxy – something that the Commander seemed to have a fondness for. Shepard hissed when Nyreen started to rub the gel over the wound, flinching away from the turian's hands.

"Here, let me do that, you take this" – she handed Nyreen her pistol – "and finish that one off." Nyreen took the offered pistol, immediately regretting trying to help the woman; she highly doubted a human woman would want sharp talons next to an already gaping wound. Shepard was known for her acceptance of other species… but she was currently defenseless and Nyreen didn't blame her for not wanting her near the injury; she was sure sharp talons looked much more dangerous than comforting to softer species. Shaking her head to dispel her thoughts, she forced her attention back to the sniper; Nyreen reloaded Shepard's pistol and slowly started taking down the Cerberus troop's shields. Finally, after another half minute of playing hide-and-seek behind the columns, Nyreen got a good shot on the Cerberus woman, causing her to stagger out of cover and into the open; taking the chance, Nyreen bolted out of cover and started pumping round and round into the woman, finally taking her down.

She quickly ran back over to where Shepard was, only to find the woman pulling herself up by a chair. Shepard grimaced and staggered slightly when she tried to put pressure on the injured leg, but somehow managed to keep herself upright.

"Spirits, Commander! Don't put pressure on it! You'll bleed out!" The medi-gel had sealed up most of the wound, but a slight trickle of red blood was still dripping from the bottom of the hole, flowing over the woman's armor; Nyreen shuddered thinking about what the inside of that cuisse probably looked like.

Shepard staggered and hissed again when she took a step forward; Nyreen reached out, quickly wrapping an arm around the commander's waist and dragged her closer, trying to support the suicidal woman's weight.

"I'll be fine," Shepard said, throwing Nyreen a lopsided grin. "Cerberus cybernetics. Apparently you get upgraded when you come back from the dead."

Nyreen stumbled, barely catching herself – or the commander. _Back from the dead…? But, that was just a rumor... Right?_

She didn't have time to ponder it though, because Shepard shimmied out of her grasp and leaned back against a wall near the stairs, picking her foot up slightly so her injured leg wasn't supporting any weight. She gave Nyreen a small push forward, towards the center of the room, motioning towards Aria with her head. "You go take that last generator down and then we'll go deal with the General. I'll be fine," she added at the end, noticing Nyreen's hesitation. The turian huntress nodded and turned her head around, praying to the Spirits that Aria was still okay; the asari was still stuck in the stasis field, but looked unharmed. Running down the stairs, Nyreen aimed the gun at the last generator, pulling the trigger until it clicked, plaintively. The generator blew on the last shot, releasing the last of the stasis field and freeing Aria from its confinement. The asari landed elegantly on her feet, biotics humming over her blue skin as she looked up towards the control room, pupils dilated in fury. The General stumbled backwards, pressing buttons on the consoles frantically – trying to lock the doors from the inside or trying to call for backup, she didn't really know. Aria vaulted from the center of the club, landing in front of the stairs that led up to her soon-to-be-reclaimed throne.

"Omega's mine!"

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**I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks to those who read and/or reviewed, and another huge thank you to those that followed and/or favorited!**


	3. Reclaiming What's Mine: Part 2

**Here is the second part of Reclaiming What's Mine! Thank you all so much for reading and a huge thank you to those who reviewed, followed, and/or favorited. It means a lot to me to know that my readers are enjoying what I write. I'm having so much fun creating this story, so I really hope that comes across in my writing. **

**Have I mentioned that I love Sereneffect? She caught so many little errors in this half of the chapter (like me accidentally typing "commander center" rather than command center). She's absolutely amazing and I would never get these uploaded without her; I would just obsessively read and reread all the chapters, trying and failing to catch all my own errors. **

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"Omega's mine!" Aria shouted, lunging herself up the stairs towards the Cerberus command center; she came to an abrupt halt, however, as her eyes met the angry red lock on the metal door. Nyreen followed her up, activating an override program on her omni-tool while Aria activated her own omni-tool, calling for reinforcements from her ground team. Shepard slowly started limping over, her cybernetics trying to stitch her leg back together. She'd have to get it checked out by Dr. Chakwas once she got back to the _Normandy_; the injury wasn't healing as quickly as it should with her upgrades. And heavens knew Garrus wouldn't let her hear the end of it. The human commander hobbled up the stairs and stood next to Aria, making sure to hold her injured leg up slightly, so only her tiptoes were lightly resting on the floor. A steady pressure was building up in her thigh; it felt like something was lodged in her leg, holding the wound open and she had a sinking feeling that part of her armor may have been wedged into the muscle. She cringed when she thought about what the consequences might be if her tissue sewed itself together over the obstruction.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the comm system crackled on; Nyreen had almost gotten the doors open when the voice emanating from the speakers pulled all their attentions up, towards the ceiling.

"Attention all Cerberus forces: Surrender."

Aria sneered. "Bastard's too scared to take me in a fair fight. Does he think he can just walk away after taking away my home, _my _station?"

General Petrovsky continued, still momentarily safe from the asari's wrath, in the confines of his command center. "Cease and desist all aggression… It's over." The doors opened at that moment, and the three of them walked forward into the room, only to find Petrovsky standing at attention, hands clasped behind his back. He turned solemnly toward Shepard.

"Commander Shepard, I, General Oleg Petrovsky, surrender myself into your custody."

Shepard just rolled her eyes at the General before she was pushed roughly aside by Aria. The biotic scoffed and strode forward, stepping past Shepard and Nyreen, her biotics flaring once again; she grabbed the Cerberus General by his throat, threw him to the ground and then planted her boot firmly on his chest. "That is the most pathetic thing I've ever heard," she sneered. She reached down and hoisted him up, turning to slam him down on the console. Her hands latched around his neck, thumbs pressing up against the delicate flesh beneath his chin.

"Shepard! I'm unarmed… I can give the Alliance intel on The Illusive Man!" he sputtered, reaching up and grabbing Aria's fingers, trying to pry them off; but she just kept steadily applying more pressure, the force slowly closing off his airways.

"You'll say anything to save your skin…" the asari growled out. It was a miracle the man was still alive at this point; both Shepard and Nyreen had assumed that Aria would have either shot him or ripped him apart with her biotics the moment she stepped through the doors. Neither thought he would leave the room with anything less than a bullet to the brain.

"I let…" – he hacked, sputtering underneath Aria's increasing pressure – "you escape Omega… I deserve… mercy!" His legs were kicking outward, trying to gain some leverage, but the asari and her biotics kept him pinned, his feet dangling, fruitlessly, inches above the ground.

"Aria," Nyreen started, walking forward a little to come stand next to the General's thrashing body. "Is this true? Did he let you live?" Shepard was still standing near the door, simply watching the scene unfold; she would jump in and stop Aria if everything actually came down to that, but… at the moment, she thought Nyreen had a better chance to get through to the asari.

Aria took her eyes off the General momentarily – though not letting up the pressure – and met the turian's gaze. "Yes, Cerberus had successfully taken the station and he let me go… he forced me to walk away from my people, from my home. He owes me a debt for all the lives he took, for what he stole from me. I intend to accept his payment," she ground out, turning back towards the General. She increased the pressure slightly, causing the man's eyes to bug out, petechial hemorrhages erupting in the whites of his eyes.

"Do you feel that Oleg? That's death, only inches away. If we hadn't killed all your… creations, I would send you to them. I would let you experience fear the same way that my people felt it. I would let your own creations end you."

Shepard was about to reach over and grab Aria's arm – the asari was steadily decreasing the amount of airflow allowed into the General's empty lungs and his face continued to turn a darker and darker shade of red. No matter the cruelty the man had wrought upon this station, no one deserved to die starved of air. And, as much as this was Aria's station, she couldn't stand by and watch her – anyone – murder someone in cold blood. Nyreen beat her to the punch though, reaching forward and grabbing Aria by her shoulders. She brought her face down and met the asari's eyes.

"Aria, please. He's not worth it," Nyreen gently begged. A moment passed between them, before Aria closed her eyes, her lip curling up in disgust – at the General, Nyreen, or herself, Shepard wasn't sure of.

Her hands loosened slightly, enough for the General to suck a weak breath into his lungs. "I'm letting you live – for the war against your master and because my partners don't want any more dead on this station. But understand me, Oleg. If I ever see you in my home again, if I ever find you oppressing or harming any of _my _people, I will end you," she whispered in his face. "Take him Shepard; you and your Alliance can decide his fate. Just get this _filth _off my station." She spit in his face after completely releasing her hands. Petrovsky sputtered, gasping for breath, and held his bruised neck with one hand, while the back of his other hand came up to wipe the asari's saliva from his mouth. Aria turned away from the man, glancing towards the opposite door as one of her guards – Bray – walked through it. She strode over to the console in the back of the room and rested her hands against the side of the control panel, sighing heavily as she shut her eyes, trying to suppress her rage.

The General slumped to the ground, protectively holding his throat. "Commander, Kandros," he nodded towards Nyreen and Shepard as he choked out the words, "glad to see you've had a… calming effect on Ms. T'Loak. I tried… talking sense into her one time… I look forward to hearing how you pulled it off."

"By the time this is over, you may be wishing we let her kill you. It at least would have been quick. Alliance doesn't take too kindly to Cerberus… I think the Brass will view your… endeavors as crimes against humanity," Shepard said. The man was sickening. Here he was, captured and defeated, and he had the audacity to make jokes and mock the situation? After all the unnecessary death he had caused?

"Now, Commander, from what I understand, Alliance prisoners of war lead fairly comfortable lives, even –"

Aria whirled on the man, raising her pistol and striding across the room until the barrel rested firmly against the General's forehead. "You're proving me right. You're making me regret taking my hands off your petty human neck. Sick supremacists like yourself should just be put down, removed from the gene pool. Without people like you in the way… the galaxy would be a better place. Bastards like you and your boss… You wouldn't last one day on Omega… not one. So give me one reason not to end you, one reason not to show you the justice you so rightly deserve, the justice this station can deliver."

He stuttered, his eyes flashing between the furious asari and Shepard. "You can't just let her kill me! I'm a prisoner. You have morals Commander! I've seen your morals, I've –"

Nyreen cut him off, her taloned fist flying at the man's face, knocking him backwards and causing him to crash into the control panel. He clutched at his broken nose, trying to hold the cartilage together while tears rushed forward from his eyes. "You're not worth the bullet to the brain. You can't bring us down to your level. Bray! Get him out of here before his mouth gets him killed."

Aria turned away from the man, reholstering her pistol. "And, Bray… take him to the detention center while we wait for the Alliance to collect him. We wouldn't want Oleg here to leave Omega without… enjoying this station's hospitality," she purred out. Bray sauntered forward, grabbing the General by the back of the collar and pushing him roughly towards the door; the batarian's shotgun was pressed harshly into the man's lower back, causing him to arch awkwardly while the blood from his nose continued to drip down his chin.

Aria walked the last few steps to the front of the command center, leaning heavily on the console and looking out over the nightclub. "I've been waiting to kill that man for months. Walk around with you and Nyreen for a few hours and I go all soft. You're like a disease."

Shepard sighed, supporting her own weight on the console behind her – all the adrenaline was starting to ebb and her head was spinning a bit, probably from the blood loss. "This victory came at a cost Aria; too many people died fighting over this station. You just spared another life. It's not soft to recognize that," she said to the asari's back.

"You sound like someone trying to sell something, trying to sell morality and mercy. And while I admire your resolve," – she glanced over to Nyreen, who was still standing off to Aria's side, her brow plates shifting in concern – "your sense of justice doesn't make sense. Sparing him doesn't fix anything; he has taken too many lives to deserve his own."

"Killing him wouldn't have been justice, Aria, it was revenge. For your own desires," Nyreen cut in. Shepard briefly locked eyes with the turian. Even if Nyreen didn't know it, she herself had been in a very similar position once before, trying to explain to a friend how revenge and justice weren't the same. Revenge left a person hollow, it left a person empty; when one seeks revenge… their gut is telling them the only way to gain closure is to repay the debt, return the sin committed. Justice is the opposite; instead of forcing the guilty to experience the sin they themselves committed, justice calls for compassion and forgiveness. It's harder during the immediate moment but… the blood that stains your hands after murder does not fade with time. The guilt will remain, while the anger will fade.

"Maybe, but what do mercies get you? Nothing. It only increases the amount of enemies you have to destroy." She turned around, looking towards Shepard and meeting the human's gaze. "Make no mistake, Commander, he only surrendered to you to save his neck. His ethics haven't changed. If your Alliance takes mercy on him and lets him go… he will continue to work with Cerberus."

"Yes, that's more than likely, but Nyreen was right; if you had killed him… you would have fallen to his level."

"I'm already at his level Commander. This is Omega. The World without Law, the Heart of Evil, the…" – she smiled; the krogan name for her station always amused her – "Land of Opportunity. This is the place where no sin goes unpunished, and yet where sins are welcomed; the place where an eye for an eye is the most honest form of justice anyone can serve. My home. Which, thanks to you, I now have back."

Shepard sighed again; some parts of a person would never change. "What's your plan, Aria?"

"There's a lot to rebuild, starting with this…" – she scowled, looking at the place where her couch used to rest – "…command center. It may take some time to remove the General's stink from my throne… I wonder if I'll ever really enjoy the pole dancing in here again…" Nyreen scoffed.

"The people of Omega have been through a lot, Aria. Try to remember that. They deserve some peace for a change."

"How can I forget when there are reminders everywhere I look?" She bent down and picked up a cracked datapad off the floor; Cerberus troops, weapons, propaganda… it all littered her station. Not to mention the bodies of her people that had been heartlessly left to rot in the streets. She looked at Shepard, tossing the datapad into a trash receptacle on her right. "And don't worry, I'll honor our arrangement: troops, ships, and a mountain of Eezo."

"I'm not so worried about what you can offer me, but what you can offer this station. In times like this… everyone needs to have a safe place to call home, and this might be the only city in the galaxy right now that is free from occupation…"

"The Talons will help rebuild. We've always been here, helping to keep this city running; we won't leave now, not in the wake of such destruction," Nyreen said, meeting Aria's dark eyes.

"Yes, now you can make your little gang useful, Nyreen, instead of simply spoiling my station with your graffiti. And, Commander… that leaves the Suns, Eclipse, and the Blood Pack to your orders. They will fight your war. Because if you don't win… there won't be an Omega left to rebuild."

"Fair enough. Just… take care of these people Aria. Take care of each other. This station has seen enough bloodshed and pain."

"You know I take care of my own," the asari said, breaking eye contact with the commander and turning back to face the empty expanse of Afterlife. "Nyreen can take you back to your ship. I'm sure your Alliance and crew are interested to hear how your time on Omega went… And I have a station to whip into shape."

Shepard nodded and turned towards the door, her leg shaking with each step; sharp spurts of pain were shooting from her thigh to her ankle. She'd definitely have to get Chakwas to take a look at her leg.

"Oh, and Shepard? Afterlife may be a shell of what is was, but I assure you: the drinks are still just as good. Bring your crew down to the VIP area for a night off. You've earned it."

Shepard laughed, nodding her head again. "That's sure as hell true. Alright, Aria, I'll message you later. I'm sure everyone could use a few hours of shore leave. Who knows when we'll get another chance... if we'll get another chance."

The blue asari nodded, turning back to the console and pressing a few buttons; she overrode the Cerberus encryption, opening the monitors and speakers in every corner of the station to broadcast her speech to every pocket of civilians and every unwelcomed Cerberus trooper. Pausing midstride, Shepard turned to watch Aria's theatrics; Nyreen left her spot by the newly reinstated queen and walked over to stand next to the commander.

"Citizens of Omega, hear me! I, Aria T'Loak, have given you back your lives, your freedom! My rule is reignited, my hand is on the control once more and I will not let go again! Each of you owes a debt – to me and to those that fought for this station. Earn my favor by rounding up the remaining Cerberus troops and… we will cast them from our home, then take time to bury and mourn our dead. My methods haven't always been popular and I can't promise that will change. But securing this station and everyone inside is now my primary objective. _No one _will imprison us again! We may be bruised, we may be bloodied… but… We _are _Omega!"

Shepard leaned towards Nyreen. "Does she always give these speeches?"

Nyreen laughed and nodded, turning to walk down the steps leading away from Aria's throne; Shepard followed behind her, albeit, much more slowly. They made their way outside the nightclub, heading back towards the docking bay where the _Normandy _was docked_. _"She likes her power. And… I do think you were right. She does care – about this station and its people, even if she hides it very well. She's… she's just never been able to let her guard down. Even with me."

"Maybe that will change. Losing everything that you have, everything that means something to you… it changes a person. It can make them stronger, if they let it. Maybe, she'll be able to open up a bit more… Maybe you can figure out where you guys went wrong…" It was obvious the turian still cared about Aria – probably more than she was willing to admit. And at times like this… there was no guarantee there would _be_ a tomorrow to fix today's mistakes.

"I highly doubt our failed relationship will be on her priority list. Besides… I don't even know if I can put myself through that right now. I don't know if I want to. We have so many more pressing matters than trying to heal old wounds and… it would be so hard to… go down that route and have it not work out again," Nyreen sighed, raking a hand over her crest. "There is just too much that could go wrong, too much pain still there. Right now… I really need to just forget about Aria and everything that's happened. I just need some stress relief; no commitment, no past wounds… You know what I'm saying? Well… you're human, so you probably don't..." She reached up again, laughing, and scratched the soft skin on the back of her neck. The gesture was shocking similar to what Garrus would do whenever he was nervous or uncomfortable. _Maybe all turians scratch their neck when they are uncomfortable. _She'd have to remember to watch the Councilor closely next time they had a meeting… if that chance ever came – though, she also highly doubted that Sparatus was ever uncomfortable. She shook her head dragging her thoughts back to the present.

"You'd be surprised. 'Stress relief' is actually how my current…" – Nyreen hummed a little when Shepard seemed to stumble on the next word – "…partner and I got together. He mentioned relieving tension on my last major mission and… During that mission, at a time like that… I needed the comfort, the support… And it turned out to be everything that I needed and more," she laughed slightly, shifting her eyes up in the air before shaking her head a bit. She seemed to be lost in thought once again. The smile that was tugging at the corner of her mouth looked much too… blissful; it didn't match her hard exterior and the blood that was staining the armor around her leg. _She must really care about this human… _"What I'm saying it I guess at a time like this, needing a warm body to relieve some tension with… I understand that."

Nyreen hummed again, her mandibles flaring outward in curiosity. "That's all very… turian of you." Shepard laughed. "As a matter of fact, you sound exactly like an old… acquaintance I once knew. He was a stubborn bastard but a sweetheart under his hard exterior. He could definitely throw you for a round in the ring. And in bed." Her brow plates shifted up and Shepard caught herself smiling at the female turian; there was something so… honest and sincere about Nyreen.

"A woman like you, I'm sure you could toss him for a round yourself; I'm assuming you held your own?"

"Ah, yes, those particular fights lasted for hours, usually carrying all the way up to my quarters. But… he always had an impressive arm span, a very long reach, which made the sparring… that much more intense. I was just… flexible enough to get out of his grasp whenever he caught me."

Shepard sputtered, choking on her own spit.

"Commander, are you alright?" Nyreen asked, alarmed.

"…Yeah… I just… that sounds…" she took a breath, trying to calm her beating heart and shook her head. _No way… there was no way… that can't be possible. _"Sorry, that's just… an interesting way to describe a… sexual encounter," Shepard lied, still frantically trying to control her breathing. _It's not possible. It can't be possible. All turians use sparring as foreplay… that's all, it's someone else. _

"Well, most turian encounters are either for rough stress relief or to reproduce. As a species, we don't typically do the more… gentle aspects of a relationship. It takes a special woman to bring that out in a male."

Shepard hummed, her heart still pounding as she tried to sort through all the thoughts crashing around inside her head. They had finally reached the docking bay, bypassing several Talon members who were dragging thrashing Cerberus troopers towards the detention area. Shepard turned towards Nyreen, her mind still running wild with speculation. "I gotta head back for a while, get my leg all patched up – that sniper got a _very_ good hit on me," she said, before pausing momentarily and steeling herself. _It's just your imagination, it's not the same story. _"I'm assuming you'll be at Afterlife tonight? I doubt Aria would stand for your absence…" she asked, half of her hoping that Nyreen wouldn't be there, which would eliminate all her irrational fears.

"I'll be there, Commander. Maybe I'll even find some of that comfort you were talking about. Just hope someone catches my eye…" Shepard nodded and smiled, before turning to hobble away, hopefully before the turian could see the nervous energy that was bubbling under her skin. Nyreen called out to her though, stopping Shepard in her tracks.

"Hey, thanks for your help with Aria. I don't think I could have talked her down if you hadn't been there. And… I'm sorry about your leg. I never intended to not have your back and… I really hope I didn't make you uncomfortable, Commander, when I was trying to help."

"What do you mean, uncomfortable?" Shepard's brows furrowed in confusion; there was nothing Nyreen could have done about the injury to her leg – she had just been caught in an unlucky spot and the sniper had gotten two good shots on her, one taking down her shields, the other ripping through her armor. Besides, she had been the one to order them to separate sides.

"My talons… I felt you flinch away. I know it must have made you nervous having _these_" – she motioned with her talons – "so close to that wound. I didn't mean to… scare you or cause any offense."

Shepard laughed. "Nyreen, trust me, your hands near my leg was the last thing on my mind. It stung like hell when you touched it, but I didn't flinch because you're a turian. I just figured you were more suited to take that trooper out, considering I couldn't even stand at the time. It had nothing to do with you species!"

"Oh, Spirits! I'm glad. I was worried that I had offended you or something," she said, sighing in relief.

"No, trust me. The turian I mentioned before that I'm currently serving with? He's saved my life and patched me up more times than I can count – and in much more sensitive and delicate places. Don't worry about it, you did nothing wrong. I'm just glad you were there to help me at all."

"Right, well… You're welcome, Commander." Nyreen said, nodding slightly, her mandibles flaring out in a small smile, before turning to walk away. Shepard turned the other way and headed back for the _Normandy_, trying not to think about all the possible implications of what Nyreen had said. Her gut told one story while her mind kept trying to convince her that she was jumping to conclusions. She repeated her previous thoughts, chanting them over and over to herself. _All_ _turians use combat as foreplay… just cause she has her own story about… reach and flexibility… doesn't mean that it's the _same _story… it can't be. That's just not possible. _

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**Thank you for reading! And I'd love to know what you thought about this half of the chapter! **

**To those of you who read my other story, Fathers and Daughters, I promise I'm working on chapter 4! I'm fighting my writer's block, tooth and nail, but I'm slowly making progress!**


	4. Past Desires, Present Fears

**Here is chapter 3! Thank every single one of you for reading and a huge thank you to all those that left reviews, followed, or favorited! I'm so excited that people are enjoying reading this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it! Also, Sereneffect is simply wonderful and I love her to death! Thank you so much for editing my stories and being a springboard to bounce all my crazy ideas off of! You are wonderful, Sereneffect! **

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Shepard slowly dragged herself back on the _Normandy, _her leg still searing with each step. She entered the airlock and started the decontamination process, trying to convince herself that there was no way Nyreen and Garrus knew each other. The galaxy was far too massive for that sort of coincidence. The decontamination cycle ended, and the doors slid open to the ship; her gaze landed on Garrus's face, his mandibles twitching anxiously as he stood by the airlock. _Had he been waiting by the airlock the entire time? _She had been out of contact with the _Normandy_ and her crew since the rendezvous with Aria's fleet; Joker had flown into dock once the ports were cleared by the group of ships flying under the Queen's flag, but she hadn't been able to contact anyone. Hours had passed since she'd left Garrus in the shuttle bay, desperately trying to convince her to let him come. If she had been in his place, without any word on his safety… she would have pulled out half her hair at this point; though, if their positions had been switched, she probably would have pulled rank on him and simply demanded to tag along.

"Spirits, Jane! What happened to your leg?" the turian said as he rushed forward to put an arm around the commander's waist, his subharmonics wavering in concern and agitation. _Leave it to him to notice the hole in my leg before anything else…_ As soon as he was supporting part of her weight, he shifted slightly and bent his knees, dipping down so she could swing her arm over his shoulders; he hauled her closer to his body, tightening the arm that was wrapped around her. They started off towards the lift that would take them down to the crew deck and, no doubt, straight to the med bay.

"Damn sniper got a shot on me..." she grumbled, nestling into his side and allowing him to support more of her weight. His sharp, gun oil scent was comforting after being on a station that constantly smelled of death and charred flesh; she buried her face into the leathery hide of his neck, trying to focus on his warmth rather than the throbbing of her leg.

"Spirits, how bad is it? Is it just your leg?" he said as they entered the elevator, slamming a talon on the controls.

"Yeah, it's just the leg," she grimaced as he released his hold on her waist; she leaned back against the wall, putting both her feet firmly on the ground which caused a burning sensation to pulse through her thigh. The shot must have done more damage than she'd originally thought if she was still in this much pain. Garrus shifted his stance, going to stand in front of her so he could properly inspect the injured woman. He skimmed his hands down her sides, looking for any breaches in the seals of her armor or any other punctures or lacerations. When he got to the hole in her thigh, he hissed, brow plates twitching in concern. Garrus gingerly touched the armor around the wound, inspecting the edges of the hole. "Shepard, how bad is it?" he asked seriously, mandibles twitching against the side of his face. _I should have been there. I should have had her back, _he reprimanded himself. The moment she had left the ship he had regretted not demanding to come with her – or at least, regretted not following her in the other shuttle.

"I'll be fine. I'm just worried there might be a piece of armor stuck in the muscle preventing my cybernetics from working; I tried to patch it up, but, it's not healing like it usually does."

"Spirits, Jane. Come on, you're going to Chakwas," he said as the lift came to a halt. He turned around and bent down again, letting her throw her arm over his shoulder once more. They hobbled off the lift, turned the corner, and started down the walkway towards the med bay.

"Hey, Lola! Glad you're back! How'd the – oh, shit. She alright Scars?" James Vega said, rounding the corner of the mess table, holding a massive plate of huevos rancheros; Shepard's mouth started watering while Garrus recoiled slightly in disgust at the smell that was wafting across the mess hall.

"I'm fine Vega, just a tiny gunshot, nothing to worry about… Though, I could go for some of those eggs you were talking about earlier… You know, for after the Doc patches me up…?" she drawled as she threw a wink over to the Lieutenant.

"Making eggs for my commanding officer… if my abuela could see me now…" he muttered, turning back towards the kitchen, shoveling a fork of food in his mouth on the way. Garrus chuckled as he pressed the controls to the med bay, opening the door. "Never give that man a break, do you?" he rumbled.

"Ah, he doesn't mind. Besides, he needs something to keep him busy," Shepard said as she shuffled inside the doors; all the walking had caused the puncture to start bleeding again and she could feel the blood slowly spreading across the fabric of her under suit. _Just a few more feet..._

"Commander, how was your – Heavens! What happened to your leg?" Dr. Chakwas said when she lifted her head from her console, turning towards her visitors.

"Sniper," Shepard replied squarely. _Why is everyone so surprised? It's not like anyone expected me _not _to get shot… _

The older woman tsked as she motioned towards the bed situated behind her desk; Shepard hobbled over with the supportive help of Garrus. He let go of her when she reached the bed and Shepard turned herself around, planting her hands on the edge of the cot so she could hoist herself back and up on to it.

"Well, let's take a look. Is it just the leg, Commander?"

"Yeah, I think. Nothing else hurts in any case."

"I see. Very well, Commander, go ahead and take your armor off. Leave that bit on, incase it's seared to your under suit or leg," she said, motioning to the commander's thigh. Garrus bent down and started unlocking the clasps to her boots and leg greaves, gently taking off the pieces of armor one by one. The doctor had long since given up on ushering him out of medical whenever Shepard was injured; after the mission on Menae, she had tried to escort the turian out of the room while she was dealing with a large laceration to Shepard's upper back – a nasty wound caused by one of the krogan-turian monstrosities. He had promptly growled at her, moving to stand between the doctor and her patient, telling her he would be damned if he ever left Jane's side when she needed him. His presence also seemed to comfort the commander and Karin simply didn't have the heart to force the two of them apart. Not in a time like this, not when so little comfort was left in the galaxy.

The doctor smiled at Garrus as she watched him delicately remove the bits of the commander's armor while Shepard reached around, working on her upper half; Shepard removed her chest and arm pieces, leaving her sitting on the bed in only her Alliance under suit. Once everything was off except for the one thigh cuisse still on her leg, she leaned back on the bed, blissfully relaxing her head on the pillows and taking the pressure off her strained muscles. Garrus gently placed a hand behind her thigh and the other behind her calf and lifted her leg up on the bed, carefully situating it so it was lying straight. Dr. Chakwas activated her omni-tool, scanning over Shepard's body checking for any other unnoticed – or, unmentioned – injuries. When she, surprisingly, didn't find any, she started to work on removing the remaining armor on Shepard's thigh, cutting away portions of it and slowly whittling it back. Once she got down to the last bit of fiberglass surrounding the wound, she checked to see if the armor was seared to the under suit. That didn't seem to be the case however, as the lubrication from some medi-gel and Shepard's blood seemed to have prevented the armor from melting onto her under suit.

"Commander, did you medi-gel this properly? It's still bleeding. Your under suit is soaked through," Chakwas said as she carefully pulled the last bit of armor off.

"Yeah, we did. But, I think a piece of the armor might have gotten stuck in the muscle. I felt something hard when I was trying to stop the bleeding."

"I see. Well, lie still for a moment and try not to move." Shepard propped herself up on her elbows and glanced down at her leg; with all the armor gone, she could clearly see the damage done to her under suit – and her thigh. There was a huge hole in it where the round had torn through the fabric and the area around the wound was dripping with blood; the edges of the hole were singed and some bits of fabric were sticking out of her leg, embedded in the mangled flesh. Chakwas returned a few seconds later, carrying a tray for the debris, a pair of tweezers, and a variety of other instruments Shepard really didn't want to think about. Shepard leaned her head back again, when Garrus put a comforting hand on her cheek; his gloves were off and the warmth from his skin relaxed her immensely. She felt a sharp twinge on her upper thigh before the majority of her leg went blissfully numb – only a slight pressure was left in her quad. Garrus moved even closer to her head, gently stroking her cheek. His mandibles were still twitching and a concerned hum was emanating from his chest. His eyes, however, were focused completely on the hole in Shepard's leg, watching the doctor slowly start to pull out pieces of fabric.

"So what exactly happened? Weren't you with Aria?" he asked, hoping that she couldn't feel any of this or, if she did, hoping that he could at least distract her a bit from the pain.

"Yeah, I was, but she was… preoccupied at the moment – trapped in a Cerberus stasis field. Oh, I'll tell you the whole story later, promise," she said as he turned towards her, his brow plates quirking. "I was on one side of the room, Nyreen on the other, and, well… I got caught in a bad spot and a Nemesis got two good shots on me."

"Nyreen?" Garrus asked absentmindedly, still focused on the doctor, who was now pulling bits of armor out of the commander's thigh.

"She's a gang leader on Omega, turian. Ex-military – though, I guess all turians are ex-military. She's a good soldier and – Ahh! Doc, what the hell was that?!" Shepard screamed, her fists clenching against the side of the bed; something scraped against her femur before the pain dissipated, all the previous pressure following closely behind.

"Well, Commander," Dr. Chakwas said, holding up a decent one inch piece of charred armor for Shepard to see. "It seems you have a decent amount of fiberglass from your armor wedged inside your vastus lateralis. I'll have to get all this out before your cybernetics can even start to patch you up properly. That was the largest chunk – also the deepest – but there are still a few more shards that I'll have to retrieve. Do you need more morphine?"

"No, I'll be fine. Just… get it done," she ground out, clenching her teeth and reaching out to hold on to Garrus's hand. He entwined their fingers and gave her hand a gentle squeeze while brushing back the hair on her forehead. Dr. Chakwas nodded before returning her attention to Shepard's leg, slowly and precisely picking shards out and dropping them in the tray beside the bed. When she was done, the doctor wrapped Shepard's leg in waterproof gauze, securing it above and below the open wound; Shepard's cybernetics were already stitching the muscle back together, now that it wasn't being held open. Helping Shepard to her feet, Garrus reached over and grabbed what was left of her armor; it was a military vessel, but he didn't imagine Shepard would want to walk past the mess in nothing but her ruined under suit. He helped her get the leg pieces on – though, her right leg looked funny with a large piece of armor missing and a massive expanse of white gauze around her thigh – while Shepard, once again, worked on the upper half. Chakwas handed Shepard a couple of pills, which the commander promptly swallowed, and then gave Shepard strict orders to not put any undue stress on her leg for at least a few hours to allow time for her tissue to sew itself back together a bit more thoroughly. Garrus wrapped his arm around her waist once again, and they walked out of the med bay together.

Vega was sitting at the table in the mess with a spare plate of huevos rancheros resting next to his own. He turned when the Commander and Garrus stepped out of the med bay, holding up the plate to her wandering eyes. "Here're your eggs, Lola. But, you know I don't make eggs for just anyone. I'm gonna need something in return…" he said, his eyes travelling down to her legs.

"I'll just go a little easier on you next time I take you in the ring; wouldn't want to mess up that pretty face." She wriggled out of Garrus's grasp and hobbled over to retrieve the plate from the lieutenant outstretched hands, smirking and batting her eyelashes at him a little. His cheeks flushed a bit before he turned back around to the table, mumbling something about the woman being a tease.

Garrus laughed as Shepard patted the lieutenant on the arm, telling him thank you, before turning herself around and heading towards the lift. Once they got inside, he pressed the button for her cabin and then moved towards her once again, pulling her against his side; he nuzzled his face into her hair, which, unfortunately, didn't smell like it usually did, the stench of Omega and blood overshadowing her scent. He cringed when the smell assaulted him; that station still left a bad taste in his mouth – though, he assumed it left a bad taste in nearly everyone's mouth. He really hoped they would be leaving this system quickly – the sooner, the better; he briefly pondered whether Shepard had told Joker to set a course for another system or not. But, no matter when they got off of this Spirits forsaken station, he knew one thing; he'd be damned if he ever let Shepard go back to that hellhole without him by her side.

When the lift reached the top floor and the doors to the elevator opened, he reached forward with his free hand and entered the pass code to her cabin. They stepped inside and he helped Shepard over to the couch, where she sat down and promptly started devouring her food – it took all of Garrus's will to remain by her side rather than move towards the other side of the room, the smell of… whatever that was, overpowering his senses.

"You know, after you finish eating… that – Spirits knows what it is – you might want to take a shower."

"Are you saying I stink, Soldier?" Shepard asked, tossing Garrus a mock glare.

"Well… yes. That, and… I could use a good excuse to get you out of that armor."

"The doctor just ordered me to rest and not put any undue stress on my leg… and, now you want to get me in the shower?"

"Oh, well, ah… what I have in mind is more stress relieving than stress inducing," he said as he chuckled, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck.

She laughed, slapping him gently on the knee. _There's that fringe scratching thing again… _She briefly contemplated just asking him if he knew a Nyreen Kandros, but thought better of it; honestly, she wasn't even sure if she wanted to know if he knew her. Or, in what capacity he had known her.

Shepard shook the thoughts from her head and finished up her eggs quickly, though, still taking the time to savor the flavor – Heavens knew when she'd get real food again – and then she stood up, padding off towards the bathroom with Garrus following close behind her. She stumbled slightly on the steps, the muscles in her thigh still not back to normal, but Garrus caught her before she had a chance to fall.

"Careful," he chided gently, wrapping an arm around her waist once again. They got to the bathroom, and Garrus immediately pressed the controls for the shower, allowing the water to heat up a bit. He turned back to her and started to help her remove her armor, setting it in a pile on the outside of the bathroom door – no matter the technological advances in the galaxy, humidity still wasn't gentle on armor; and even as damaged as this current set was, he flinched at the thought of rust gathering around the joints of the black suit. When Shepard got down to her under suit, he held on to her shoulders to help keep her steady while she shimmied out of the fabric. Once she was completely bare, except for the waterproof gauze wrapped around her thigh, he stepped out into the main room to shed his own armor before joining her.

As she was stepping into the shower, Shepard found herself pondering what Nyreen had said. She refused to focus on the more… disconcerting things the turian huntress had said; but one thing was currently rushing through her head, brought forth by the way Garrus had, ever so gently, helped her remove her armor and get her into the shower. _It takes a special woman to bring that out in a male._ That struck a chord in Shepard. Garrus had never been rough with her – at least, nothing that would warrant going to the med bay, which was something turian couples were apparently infamous for. Was that something he needed? Was that something he wanted but was giving up so he could be with her? Was that… something that he'd had… with… previous partners? She groaned and shook her head, trying to shake the image of Garrus and Nyreen locked in a heated sparring match out of her head. _It's probably not even her. It's just coincidence. Every turian has had a scrap or two with another squad mate._

A slight graze of sharp talons against her stomach alerted her to Garrus's entrance. He wrapped his arms around her, gently grazing the tips of his talons over the taut muscles of her stomach while nuzzling his face into her hair. After a few moments, he reached over to the wall and grabbed her soap, squeezing the bottle so a little of it flowed out and over the top of her shoulders. He started rubbing it into her skin, gradually increasing the pressure against her shoulders, trying to help her spent muscles relax.

"So… how was it that Aria, the Queen of Omega, got trapped in a biotic stasis field?"

Shepard laughed as she felt some of the tension drain away from her; it hadn't seemed so funny at the time, but looking back on it, she wouldn't have figured someone like Aria – someone so cunning, calculating, and manipulative – to be so easily duped. Anger does interesting things to a person. "Well, do you want the whole story, or just the short version?"

"Oh, I guess the full one will work. Wouldn't want to miss out on hearing about how many times you wished I was at your back…"

She nodded. "Though, I hate to admit it, I have definitely gotten too comfortable having you at my back. It didn't even occur to me to watch my six." Her head lolled forward a bit, relaxing under the steady pressure of his fingers against the back of her neck and her shoulder blades.

He chuckled, then bent down and lightly nipped the dip in her shoulder; it was a reprimand, but a loving one. "Well, as much as I'm happy to have your back, Shepard – and I always will – I would prefer you to come back alive, whether I'm there or not. So… try to remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Well, I definitely could have used you." She trailed off for a moment, simply enjoying the feel of his rough hands on her back, gently stroking her sore muscles. "Have I mentioned the Adjutants?"

Garrus shook his head against her neck as he continued to massage her back. "No, is that some… new Reaper husk?"

"Worse. They are basically Cerberus versions of husks made with Reaper tech. Not too bad if you just say it like that, but, they have some mutation that allows them to 'infect' any one they come into contact with…"

"Cerberus can't leave well enough alone, can they? It's bad enough we have to deal with the Reaper's own husks, but now this…"

"Yeah…" she sighed. "As long as some other species has the newest, biggest, baddest thing, Cerberus won't sit still. The Illusive Man… how does someone fall that far?"

"I don't know, Shepard. But, you'll stop him. I know you will."

"I wish I had the same confidence you do, Garrus. I can't help feeling like this is all… so pointless. How are we supposed to win something like this?"

"By not sacrificing our morality along the way, by not bending down to the Reaper's level. You'll win this, Shepard," he said as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his carapace, and burying his face into the dip in her shoulder. "So… Aria?" he said after a moment, hoping that she would continue her story and not worry about this war and everything that could go wrong.

Shepard smiled and rested her head against the side of his. _Always distracting me. "_Well, we'd taken out most of the Adjutants outside Afterlife – where Petrovsky was hiding out – but when we got inside, Aria decided that she would just blitz the General and collect on her justice. Well… he had expected that, I guess. He had these generators that created their own biotic charges, and, well, when she jumped, she got trapped. That just left me and Nyreen to deal with the Adjutants and the Cerberus troopers in the room."

_Nyreen…? _He vaguely remembered Shepard saying that name in the med bay, but he had been too distracted to focus on anything other than her leg at that time. "Nyreen?"

"Yeah, she's turian, ex-military. Leader of the Talons? Apparently they used to be a small gang, no major crime, but after the other three gangs were taken down a notch… well, yeah." She stopped abruptly, clamping her mouth shut and hoping that she hadn't upset Garrus too much; Omega wasn't a topic they routinely talked about.

_Nyreen… turian…ex-military…? _Garrus felt his heart rate pick up slightly and his mandibles twitched against the sides of his face in agitation; but, before he could regain his composure, Shepard turned around in his arms, and gently reached up to cup his fluttering mandibles in her palms. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring that up. You okay?"

He just nodded, glad that she had assumed his unease was solely due to talking about his time on Omega and not because of the name she mentioned. He gently grabbed her hips and turned her back around to start soaping up her back once more.

She nodded, heaving a sigh and kept going. "Well… after their old leader – Derius – was killed, Nyreen stepped up and sort of… converted them into more of a security force, rather than a gang. In all honesty, they kinda sound similar to the squad you created… Stopping crime, making sure civilians are safe… the like. I'm actually surprised you don't know more about them. Did you ever have any run-ins with them?"

He hummed, lost in thought. He hadn't ever really dealt with the Talons during his time on the station, though he did have a few run-ins with some of the members. At the time, the gang really only seemed to focus on smaller, more annoying crimes, leaving the major crimes to the other gangs. He wasn't surprised some other group made its way up the ranks after he'd taken the Sun, Eclipse, and Blood Pack down. But… the rest of this was all sounding a little too… familiar. And that name… Nyreen. The only Nyreen he had ever known… well, she was definitely a sympathetic person, always putting a civilian's life before her own, and she had left the military… But there was no way. That was too huge a coincidence. Shepard turned her head to try to look at him and he abruptly realized that she had asked him a question.

"No, never really ran into them. They were mostly just petty crimes when I was there: vandalism, graffiti, small theft. Nothing worth the notice of… my squad," he said distractedly. The anxious tremor in his voice didn't go unnoticed by Shepard and she regretted ever mentioning the gangs of Omega.

"Oh. Well, the Talons are helping Aria rebuild everything now. And, Nyreen's a good soldier; she pulled my ass out of the fire a couple of times. Her biotics helped a lot."

Garrus felt his blood chill. _Biotic…? Spirits… that's not possible. It can't be her… _Shepard continued though, evidentially unaware of his increased heartbeat. Or, if she did notice, maybe she was just attributing it to the heat of the water and the fact that his hands were running across her back and the slopes of her waist.

"I'd never met a turian biotic before; Nyreen said that the turian military isn't very trusting of them. Apparently they 'reassigned' her, placing her with the turian Cabals. But she ended up leaving, and, well, ended up on Omega. 'Lost her way to Omega' as she put it," Shepard said, recalling the turian biotic's story.

His hands jerked slightly and his breath hitched. _Spirits… the Cabals… _He racked his brain, trying to remember the last time he'd heard anything about Nyreen; about where she was or what she was doing. He knew she had left the Cabals shortly after being reassigned, but he never knew where she had gone. He always presumed some sort of freelance work, somewhere she didn't have to deal with the military's rule of "the few for the many". He remembered trying to track her down once or twice through C-sec databases, but she appeared to have disappeared off every major list in the turian hierarchy. Besides, even if he had found her, he had never figured out what he would have said. What was there to say? "Hey, the military wasn't the same without you – no one to spar and then screw – so I left. But the Citadel is even more boring. Wanna swing by for a round after I get off work?" They hadn't kept in touch much after she'd left the fleet; a few messages here and there, but nothing to indicate that she'd still even be interested in him. And after she'd left the Cabals and he'd joined C-sec… there were just too many systems in between them to maintain any sort of relationship – if you could even call it a relationship to begin with. It was more of a dysfunctional method of relaxing with a slight sense of camaraderie that had lasted much longer than either of them had expected and grown much more serious and deeper than they had anticipated.

Up until Jane Shepard walked into his life, he really had never thought he'd meet someone like Nyreen again. Her sense of morality… it had caused them to butt heads quite a few times and had definitely caused some issues for her in the military. It was, actually, the only major thing they had ever disagreed on. It wasn't that she didn't agree with sacrifices, she just thought that, in most cases, the amount of sacrifice demanded was far greater than it needed to be. Thinking about it now, it was shockingly similar to Shepard's view on war. Eerily similar. Nyreen had gotten into multiple arguments with her superiors about the tactics used during certain field missions. She'd never understood civilian sacrifice. Sacrifice of her squad or herself, sure; but never civilian. _Spirits. _If the way Shepard was describing Nyreen was accurate… it certainly sounded like the same turian.

But, could she have really gone to Omega? He knew she had felt trapped in the Cabals, unable to completely utilize any of her skills, but Omega? That station was the polar opposite of Nyreen; there was no good and right, just what was allowed by the stations Queen. But, if Nyreen was helping Aria reclaim her palace… did she know Aria? Had she worked with Aria before? That would explain a lot… The only reason he and Aria hadn't crossed paths much during his tenure on the station was because there wasn't much either of them had to say to the other; he kept out of her way, and she let him clean up the filth on Omega's streets. But, if Nyreen had teamed up with Aria, if she had gotten in the asari's way... Aria could be very convincing. If Nyreen had gone there for freelance work and Aria had taken notice of the young biotic… Nyreen had wanted to hone her biotics a bit more after her reassignment; who better to teach her than a biotic goddess who governed a station where no one went unnoticed, yet everyone was invisible? But even with all that, Garrus still couldn't picture Nyreen on that station, let alone leading a gang… though, it seemed now that the Talons weren't so much a gang as they were a… security force, as Shepard had called it.

_No. That can't be her. That's too much of a coincidence. _Just because this Nyreen is a turian biotic who has a penchant for savings lives, doesn't prove that she's the same Nyreen he had courted for over two years. There were plenty of turian biotics… they weren't common, by any means, but they weren't overly rare. It wouldn't be impossible for this to simply be another turian named Nyreen who just happened to be a biotic. Especially considering nearly every turian biotic, after their abilities fully emerge, was reassigned to a Cabal unit. It could very easily just be a coincidence. An uncanny and extremely unsettling coincidence, but a coincidence nonetheless.

"Garrus?" Shepard asked, her brow furrowing as she turned her head to glance at him.

Garrus started, his hands immediately going back to their previous motions on Shepard's back; the same human back that may or may not have been saved multiple times by his ex-partner. _Spirits, what if it is Kandros?_

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**Garrus and Nyreen as a couple? I don't know about you, but I can totally see them sparring in the cargo hold of a frigate! I'd love to know what you thought about this chapter!**


	5. She Has Flexibility

**Here's chapter 4! I'm going to grovel at your knees and ask for your forgiveness because of how long it took me to finish this chapter. I'm very sorry! But, hopefully, a little bit of smut will make up for the long wait! I know I promised there would be smut at the end of this story, but Garrus ended up needing a distraction from thinking about Kandros and Shepard seemed to be a good place to find that distraction! I'm also almost done with the next chapter as well; I'm still tweaking the ending a bit, but I promise I won't make you wait quite as long for the next update! **

**Sereneffect is absolutely amazing; she really helped encourage me on this chapter. I was dealing with some serious smut writer's block (it's a thing, honestly!) and she really helped me more than I can say! She even brainstormed ideas with me while I was waiting for the midnight release of Man of Steel! Honestly, this chapter probably would have taken much longer to finish if she hadn't been spurring me on. And, thank you all for reading and a big thank you to those that followed, favorited, and/or reviewed!**

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Pressing the controls to the shower, stemming the spray of water until just a small drizzle trickled out of the nozzle, Shepard turned and stepped out of the small space, walking over towards the small group of shelves that lined her bathroom wall. Her thigh still twanged slightly, a little residual pain from the injury; she'd be stitched back together soon enough though, now that there weren't chunks of fiberglass lodged in her quad. Garrus stepped out behind her and grabbed his own towel, buffing it against his plates; he seemed distracted by something though, his eyes focused on the wall but not really seeming to see it.

"You okay?" Shepard asked, toweling off the area around her thigh carefully.

Garrus tore his eyes away from the wall and looked over at Jane, trying to compose his expression, hoping that she didn't think anything was amiss. _Stop thinking about Kandros. It's probably not even her._

"I'm fine. How's the leg?" he asked, trying to focus his attention on anything other than his ex-partner. He hadn't even seen or talked to her in years. There was no way that_ this _Nyreen was _his _Nyreen; there was no reason for him to be anxious. He just needed to get his mind off of her. He glanced over at Shepard when she didn't respond immediately; she was still looking at him, a small crease between her brows, as she finished up her legs. When Garrus caught her gaze, Shepard nodded, wrapping the white towel around her chest and tucking a corner in between her breasts to hold it up, blocking the pale expanse of her skin from his gaze.

"Better. Not nearly as bad anymore," she replied, though, Garrus noticed she was still limping slightly as she took a step towards the sink. He watched her back absentmindedly as she reached for the small cabinet behind her mirror, pulling out her brush and starting to rake the bristles through her hair; the muscles in her shoulders pulled underneath the skin as she moved her arms, and he followed the movement with his eyes. She was so… delicate. With no plating or outer protection, you could clearly see the tendons and muscles shift under her skin as she moved. Human females were so much softer, so much more vulnerable than turian women – for him, that only added to Jane's attractiveness and her strength; despite her lack of plating or protection, she always put herself in harm's way without so much as a second thought, if it mean saving an innocent. Like Kandros.

But, no matter their similarities in war-time practices, in comparison to Kandros, or any of this other partners, Jane was so different, so much more fragile. He felt like she needed protection – no matter how much he tried to convince himself she didn't. The way her species was built was just so dramatically different from turians. Where Jane was soft curves and delicate features, his other partners had been sharp angles and striking markings – Kandros especially. She was considered very attractive by turian standards: a harsh dip in her waist, a gently slope of her crest, prominent cheek plates brought out by shocking red markings. He had always thought she was beautiful. Garrus remembered how many of the males he and Kandros had served with, had more than willingly taken her in the ring. Garrus had been the only one to actually court her though. She was stunning, but stubborn. If she had simply followed the military's guidelines without questioning every principle… she would have been mated a long time ago. But, she had refused to just sit back and watch civilians suffer when she felt like there was something she could have done, something she could have changed to help them. Like Shepard.

The way Shepard had been describing the turian biotic… she sounded like the Nyreen he had courted. She sounded exactly how he remembered Kandros: always stubbornly refusing to just follow orders she didn't agree with. He had told Shepard – more than once – he didn't think he was a very good turian. He remembered saying once, "When a turian hears a bad order, he follows it. He might complain, but he knows his place." He'd never been one to fall in line like that; Kandros wasn't either. It was just which orders they each disobeyed that they butted heads on. Kandros disagreed with civilian sacrifice; he disagreed with "proper" protocols that got in the way with the main mission. That was the exact disagreement he and Jane continuously had. Thinking on it, Jane and Kandros seemed to have essentially the same military beliefs. They seemed so similar… but, they were so different in every other way. And, yet, he thought Jane was just as attractive as Kandros was – just in very different ways. _Stop thinking about Kandros and definitely stop comparing the two of them, Vakarian. Nothing good will come of that. Besides, it's probably not even her; it's just a coincidence. _

Shaking his head to dispel his thoughts, Garrus came up behind Jane after tossing his towel to the floor; he reached up and took the brush from her hand, taking up the tedious job of clearing out all the tangles from her hair. He felt as Shepard relaxed her neck a little, letting her head loll back into his hands as his talons followed the bristles through the tendrils of her hair. Garrus grazed a talon gently down the back of her neck, causing a slight shiver to run up her spine; she always responded so quickly to his touches, something he never tired of. _So different than a turian woman… _He clenched his jaw shut trying to prevent his thoughts from going down that path again; not when Jane was standing in front of him, relaxing her head back into his hands, trusting him with such a vulnerable part of her anatomy. She hummed a little in question when his hands faltered, startling him back to the present. He dipped his head down and nibbled lightly on downward slope of her neck. He rumbled a little near her ear as she shivered again, and fluttered his mandible against her neck; he could feel her thigh shaking slightly, just from the exertion of standing up on a still open wound.

"You should be resting, Jane."

Shepard only smiled in response, though, still standing in front of the sink. Garrus was about to complain and insist that she go lie down, but, she brought one hand up behind her to gently trace the leathery skin between the row of spine-like plates on the back of his neck and pressed her ass back against his pelvis, effectively causing him to forget his would-be insistence. He gave in for the moment, and growled contentedly, setting the brush down on the edge of the sink and wrapping his arms around her waist, all other thoughts pushed out of his mind as her fingers continued to tease just below his fringe. Garrus buried his face farther into her neck, enjoying her scent now that it wasn't tainted by the stench of Omega. Jane turned around in his arms – a little awkwardly since her thigh felt rather cumbersome at the moment – and draped her arms over his cowl; he pulled his head up from her neck and pushed his brow plates against her forehead. She smiled up at him before pressing her lips to his mouth, tracing the rough edges of his mouth with her tongue, seeking entrance. He purred in response, opening his mouth and extending his own tongue, reveling in her taste.

Garrus traced his talons along the border of the towel wrapped around her body, lightly grazing her soft flesh but making sure to never press hard enough to puncture her skin. He tried to press himself closer to her, his hands finally coming to rest on her shoulder blades, pulling her into him as their tongues continued to caress each other.

"Jane…" he groaned, opening his mouth even further to inhale her scent while also trying to stem the desire to mark her. She just moaned in return, clutching slightly harder at his cowl, raking her nails against his hide while her tongue continued the marvelous human things it could do.

He trailed one hand down the back of the towel, gripping the end of it and pulling it up slightly, exposing the back of her thighs to his wandering talons. He carefully brought his hand up higher on her uninjured thigh, gently caressing the tender flesh on her inner leg; Shepard shifted her foot slightly, opening herself up to him a bit more and he rumbled into her mouth, sending a tremor down her spine. Garrus continued to tease her skin while steadily climbing higher on her thigh, before, finally, stroking one taloned finger across her already wet core. She moaned and broke the kiss when the pad of his thumb brushed over her clit. He stroked her again, focusing on the way she threw her head back slightly and the way her lips parted, her needy exhales ghosting over his plates. He gently spread her lips, pressing one knuckle up into her while dragging his thumb across the bundle of nerves once again.

After a few more strokes of his fingers, her thigh began to tremble even more pronounced and he realized that she was pressing herself up on the tips of her toes, trying to angle her hips to get more contact from him – trying to angle her hips in a way that was, clearly, not comfortable after her recent injury. Reluctantly, he slid his finger out of her wet folds and brought his hand up to wrap around her waist again, supporting her weight more fully when he dragged her against him. He bent down and scooped her up, situating one arm behind her knees and the other across her back. Shepard snuggled against his chest and started trailing kisses and light bites up his throat, focusing on the soft flesh beneath his chin. Garrus carried her over to the bed, her damp towel still wrapped around her body, and he gently laid her down, ensuring her leg was carefully arranged on the bed.

"Garrus, I'm not that delicate," Shepard said, propping herself up on her elbows and looking at him with raised eyebrows, as he brushed a talon gently over her exposed thigh.

"Jane, please?" he asked, climbing up on the bed and leaning over her; he trailed one hand up her uninjured thigh again, underneath the towel, as he supported his weight with his other hand. He bent down, licking down her throat and along her collarbone. She wrapped her arms around his cowl once again when he removed his fingers from under the towel to reach up to her chest, pulling the white cloth free; it fell open on the bed, exposing her pale skin to his wandering eyes once more. He pulled back to look at her, his eyes tracing the gently curve of her breasts, the soft dip of her waist, contrasting harshly with the jut of her collarbones and the protrusion of her hipbones. He brought his hand up to gently start caressing her breasts, palming the taut peak before rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Shepard gasped, arching her back and thrusting her chest further into his grasp, while her fingers dug into the soft flesh of his neck. He growled at her response, loving the way she fell apart underneath him. He moved his mouth down her throat, swirling his rough tongue around her peaked nipple while his hand traced up and down her ribs, watching the way her chest moved, up and down, with each breath she took.

His hand continued to graze down her side, passing over her ribs, before brushing over her hipbones and finally finding its way back to her core; he carefully stroked her wet folds in time with his tongue's teasing circles around her nipple. With each passing slide of the pad of his finger over her clit – never his talon, fearing how easily he could cut her – she writhed a little more, alternating between arching her chest closer to his face and bucking her hips up in the air. He ground his pelvis down over her hips, his plates already parted and his length fully emerged; he rubbed himself on the smooth skin of her stomach, seeking just a touch of friction from her skin while he continued to pleasure her – something that he never could have done with a member of his own species as the hard plates on a turian female's stomach would have been more than uncomfortable against his sensitive erection. As her breathing came faster, he increased the pace of his strokes on her clit – another anatomical difference between turians and humans – and started to lightly nip her neck, following the line of her jaw.

"Garrus, please…" Jane moaned, arching her back even further; she shifted her legs so that Garrus was nestled in between them, letting her thighs fall open. He growled when her scent hit him and he ground himself farther into the skin on her hip, moving his hands so they were each braced on the bed beside her waist. Jane wrapped her uninjured leg around his lower back, pulling him down so his throbbing erection pressed against her inner thigh, the tip resting just a few inches shy of her center. Garrus pulled his head back from her neck, meeting her hooded gaze; he dropped his head once again, nuzzling his brow plates with her forehead, their eyes not straying from each other as he shifted slightly, aligning himself with her opening. Jane pressed against his lower back slightly with her leg and he began to slowly, gently, press himself into her. He watched as her eyelids fluttered as she shifted her hips again, angling her core so he could push into her fully, sheathing himself up to the hilt in her warmth. He groaned as he felt her walls, so warm, so wet, surrounding him, pulling him further into her. Garrus brought one hand up, still bracing himself with the other on the bed, and gently cradled the back of her head, causing her to press against him even more. He tilted his head down, gently nipping her lip, and she opened her mouth in response, their tongues tangling once again.

He lost himself in the kiss, simply content to be as close to her as he was. After a blissful moment, he slowly pulled out, before sliding back in, starting a slow pace while kissing her the best he knew how. Shepard wound her hands around the back of his neck, teasing at the sensitive flesh underneath his fringe and Garrus had to fight a growl as her nails dragged down the back of his neck. He hissed, breaking the kiss and throwing his head back slightly as her nails bit more roughly into the tender flesh. If a turian female had put that much pressure behind her talons, it would have cut him open; but, when Jane did it… Garrus clenched his jaw, trying to fight back the desire to simply grasp her by the soft flesh of her hips, talons digging into her skin, and thrust harshly into her, like he would do if she was a turian female who scratched his fringe. He had always held back with Jane, never letting go fully when he was with her; he knew how easily he could tear her open, how easily he could hurt her in bed if he let go – Cerberus upgrades or not. But, when her gentle grazes with her fingers turned into her nails trying to find purchase on his leathery hide, or when her tender nibbles turned into lustful bites, he had a hard time remembering she was human and not a hard plated turian female he was going a round with; he had a hard time not simply giving into his instincts and grabbing her, thrusting into her, growling all the way through his release and marking her as his.

"Jane…" he groaned, clenching the fingers of one of his hands in the sheets, his talons tearing through the fabric. She pressed down with her leg again, pulling him even further into her. He moved his hand from behind her neck where his fingers had tangled in her hair, and shifted his weight so that his hand now rested on her hip; he pressed down gently, stilling her hips as she continued to try to buck up into him, trying desperately to hold on to the last of his control. Jane didn't stop though, her fingers still grabbing on to the back of his neck, urging him on. He moaned again as she pulled his head down once more, their eyes meeting as their foreheads pressed together, while simultaneously arching her back, causing his next thrust to press against her top wall which dragged forth a breathless cry from her lips. Garrus shifted his weight once again and reached behind his neck, pulling her hands away from his fringe; he repositioned her hand so it was lying above her head, which caused her torso to stretch, revealing more of her skin. She didn't move her hand from its new position; instead, she bit her lip and clenched her core around his length, eyes sparking in longing as he went to grab her other wrist. When they were both clenched in one of his hands above her head, he grabbed her hipbone again, arching over her and plunging into her with long, slow drives of his hips.

Jane yielded to his lead when he repositioned her hands; as much as she'd like him to be a little more forceful and rough with her at times, she couldn't find it in her to complain when he gazed at her so caringly. He pressed into her, over and over, completely filling her each time. She started to thrust her hips up, meeting him halfway; his plates were rubbing against her clit and she felt a familiar warmth start to build in her core. The hand not securing her wrists started to roam her sides, tracing over her ribs, up to the underside of her breast, before returning to grab her hip again; his grip was increasing ever so slightly as he started pushing into her a little harder, the tip of his length pressing against her upper wall. She moaned and thrust her chest out and bucked her hips, slowly coming undone underneath him.

Garrus pulled his head back from her forehead, pressing down on her wrists a bit more to give himself enough leverage to pull his head up. He watched as Jane's eyelids fluttered with each of his thrusts, her mouth parted and her brow pulled together in pleasure; her inner walls were starting to clench around him and she was panting, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out over her chest and neck. He moved his hand down to her velvety folds, slicking the pad of his finger in her wetness and then he started to trace gently circles on her clit. She gasped in a breath when his finger first made contact with the bundle of nerves and she started to writhe underneath him, the muscles in her torso contracting in time with the muscles in her core, with each passing stroke. He kept the circles slow, always mindful of his talons and the softness of her delicate flesh; he matched the pace of his pumps to each strafe of his finger.

"Garrus, please… God, faster…" Jane groaned. She was on the edge, almost to the breaking point, but Garrus just kept on at his torturously slow pace. She ground her heel into the soft flesh at his back and Garrus huffed out a breath as his hips jerked forward, uncontrolled, his plates slapping against her wet flesh. "God, yes!" she screamed, breathlessly trying to urge him on as his pelvic plates met her core. She loved it when he thrust harder in to her, or when he was a bit more forceful with his talons. But, no matter how much she tried to encourage him, how much she reassured him he couldn't hurt her and that she was willing, Garrus never let go around her. He was always in control. She couldn't help but wonder how much was he really holding back with they had sex? Was it really as enjoyable as it could be for him, or was he missing out on some aspect of turian mating because he wouldn't allow himself to lose any bit of his control around her?

Garrus growled, trying to stifle the desire to pound into her, relentlessly, until she submitted completely to him. Clenching his jaw shut – in case the desire to mark her became too much – he focused his attention on her clit, speeding up the circles until he was plunging into her with ever other stroke, his other hand still firmly securing her wrists.

As his fingers increased their pace, Jane's thoughts were forced back to the present. She felt her release building up in her core. Her breath caught in her throat as she started to clench around him, her toes curling at the end of the bed. She gasped as she came, her back arching and her eyes rolling back in bliss while Garrus continued to push into her through her orgasm. He watched her face transition between feelings, finally stopping on just an utterly relaxed and pleased expression; he marveled at how such a powerful creature could come undone at his hands, how someone like Jane Shepard could trust someone like _him_ in such an intimate way. He slowed his finger down and pulled out slightly when she finally let out a relaxed sigh, her head sinking back into the pillow. She looked so beautiful lying there with her hair disheveled and still damp from the shower, a flush covering her pale face and neck, sweat dripping between her breasts, and a small smile pulling on her lips. Garrus bent his head back down, their foreheads meeting, and Jane opened her eyes, gazing up at him. She pressed down with her calf a little, forcing his length back inside her and he hissed, his eyes closing and his mandibles flaring outward in pleasure.

When Garrus opened his eyes, Jane was watching his face, her eyes open and wanting. He rumbled lowly before starting to pump into her again, this time a little faster, though, still never fast or hard enough to satisfy him – if there was one thing he missed about being with a female of his own species, it was that, with a human, he couldn't claw at her sides, bite all along her neck, or grip her hips with all of his strength, pulling her legs as far apart as he could. Jane was far too soft and delicate for that – despite what she said. Despite what her lustful urges, breathless moans, and insistent clenching muscles said. After a moment, he gently released her wrists and settled his weight back on his knees; he moved her uninjured thigh from its place, wrapped around his waist, and carefully pushed it back so that her knee was almost resting on the bed beside her and her ankle was lying against his shoulder. Flexibility… He had thought Kandros was limber.

He carefully shifted them both, the tip of his length still pressed just an inch inside her core, so that his knees were splayed a bit more and her hips were angled up, allowing him to plunge straight down into her open slit. He slid one of his hands to grip at the back of her thigh, pressing her legs open even more, and rested the other near her side, his talons itching to grab on to her hipbones. He pressed forward slowly, throwing his head back in bliss as the new position allowed him to just _sink _fully into her. Jane groaned. He growled.

He rested his weight on his hand and started pumping into her, over and over, his pace increasing ever so slightly as he got closer to his own climax. Jane was gasping out short, breathless moans, her fists alternating between clenching around his neck and gripping the bed sheets. She came again, screaming his name. That was his undoing. His thrusts started to falter slightly in their pace, his mandibles clenched against his jaw as he forced himself to not give into his more raw instincts. With one final push forward, he roared and emptied himself into her core, her muscles, still clenching rhythmically after her release, milking him dry. Breathless and sated, he dropped his head down to hers, releasing her thigh and allowing it to fall to the side; careful not put too much pressure on her, he settled himself on top of her, nuzzling into her forehead.

"Spirits, Jane…" Garrus panted; he moved his head again and buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent, enjoying how her sweat and arousal melded with the smell of her shampoo. Pulling his length out of her wet channel, he wrapped his arm around her waist, and rolled over, bringing her with him, so that she was lying on top of him, her head resting on his shoulder. She sighed peacefully and shifted her weight slightly so that her injured leg was stretched out straight, between his bent knees. He rumbled against the top of her head, his face still buried in her hair, and wrapped his arm tighter around her, dragging her closer to him. He brushed his fingers lightly along her arm, feeling her skin erupt in waves of goose bumps with each pass of his talons. Garrus felt his eyes drifting closed as Jane pressed herself even closer to him, wrapping her arm around his waist and resting her head on his chest, her body rising and falling with each breath he took.

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**What did you think? I know this chapter wasn't **_**that **_**plot heavy, but there were a few undertones here and there and I would love to hear what you thought about them! Thank you again for reading! **


	6. I'd Be Complimenting Your Fringe

**Here's chapter 5, I'd Be Complimenting Your Fringe! This chapter is a little more plot heavy than the last one, but everything will really pick up in chapter 6. I just had to get us there first! Thank you so much for reading and a huge thank you to everyone who followed, favorited, and/or reviewed! I appreciate it so much and I'm so happy that my readers are enjoying this story. Also, Sereneffect is the most wonderful beta/editor that I could ever ask for! I love her to death!**

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"Commander? Hope I didn't interrupt you…" Joker's voice sounded out over the comm. Shepard groaned and Garrus stifled a growl as he opened his eyes; he rarely got a chance to simply relax with Shepard and he knew how much she needed moments like these, especially during this war. He may not be sure about where she stood in terms of their relationship – whether it was simply stress relief with someone she trusted or if it was something more; she had never really mentioned it and he couldn't bring himself to ask, especially in case that just put more stress on her – but, he was sure, one way or another, that Shepard needed the comfort. Even if she only got a few minutes in his arms, they were minutes that she wasn't focused on how many lives would be lost in the next hour.

He felt Shepard sigh against his neck and he reluctantly released his hold on her hips as she pushed herself up from the warmth of his body; she propped herself up on one elbow, her other hand resting lightly against the un-plated hide of his waist – Garrus growled slightly as her nails brushed the sensitive skin below his ribs.

She looked over to EDI's abandoned terminal in the corner of her cabin, out of habit. "What is it, Joker?" she asked, hoping that nothing pressing was happening outside the boundaries of her and Garrus's bed.

"Aria just messaged the _Normandy_, Commander. Traynor told me. Something about… shore leave?" the pilot asked, sounding cautiously hopeful.

Shepard groaned, only now remembering that she had agreed to an impromptu shore leave at Afterlife. It wasn't that she wasn't looking forward to a night off – well, now that she was concerned Nyreen was Garrus's old "flexibility" partner, she wasn't looking forward to it nearly as much – she just didn't want to leave the warmth of Garrus's embrace. But, her crew deserved a few hours of leave, to drink their troubles away most likely, so she reluctantly forced herself up off the turian below her and off the bed. She limped over towards her desk, her thigh still aching, and opened up her extranet terminal, checking her messages. Sure enough, there was a message from Omega's queen telling Shepard when and where her crew could meet up in Afterlife; _she_ was apparently supposed to meet up with Bray beforehand to go over some of the finer details of General Petrovsky's surrender and exchange to Alliance custody, before meeting her crew in the VIP section of the club.

Shepard turned back towards their bed after reading the message, only to find Garrus frozen in his position on the mattress, his eyes wide and the sheets still tangled around his feet; he was reclining against the headboard, his cowl propped up with some pillows on his side of the bed, his face looking oddly fearful and open without his visor on. Her brow furrowed as she wondered what was bothering him and she kept her eyes on Garrus as she replied to Joker's hopeful question.

"Yeah, if you're lucky, you may get a few hours tonight. Aria has invited the crew to help her clear out Afterlife's cabinets – her thanks for my help in retaking her city," Shepard said, rubbing her brow and trying to calm her suddenly racing nerves. _If she is the same recon scout… What if… what if they run into each other?_

"Sweet!" Joker said, sounding slightly too enthusiastic for her normally reserved pilot. In spite of her worries, she felt a small smile tug at the corners of her lips, glad to see a member of her crew excited at the prospect of a night off. She shut off the comm and walked back over to their bedroom, where Garrus was still lying against his pillows, having not moved an inch and now looking even more agitated.

"Garrus? You alright?" she asked as she reached the side of the bed. He jerked his gaze up from where it was planted on the end of the mattress and looked at her, his mandibles twitching erratically. Swallowing and trying to control the wave of uncertainty and anxiety that was threatening to erupt from his chest, he nodded in her direction before forcing his hand out to grab hers, entwining their fingers. He hoped she wasn't picking up on his nervousness; he prayed to the Spirits that she wasn't assuming the same thing he was – that this Nyreen was, in fact, _his _Nyreen.

_There's no reason to think she assumes Nyreen is _that _recon scout; there wouldn't have been any reason for Kandros to mention me. _

Unless... Spirits, what if Shepard had mentioned she was serving with a turian? A turian from the Vakarian colony?

_It wouldn't be an issue, because it's probably not even her; besides, who's to say she would even still be interested in you? There's no reason to be nervous. Kandros has probably found a mate._

Nyreen had always been a very attractive female and, after his run in with the gunship… With all the scarring on his neck and his mangled mandible, no female – turian or not – would be itching to date him, let alone bond with him; he had never been the greatest turian, despite his clan's high standing, and now, with his colony markings ruined on the right side of his face… But, Shepard had never seemed bothered by any of that; she actually had mentioned before that she liked the scarring, that it made him look handsome. He doubted a female from his own species would feel the same way. Human attraction seemed to be based on what made a male or female stand out, on unique features that set each of them apart; with turian females – and males – it was all about symmetry: a long fringe for males, a gentle sloping crest for females, evenly aligned mandibles. He thanked the Spirits that only one mandible was damaged and that his fringe hadn't been mutilated by the gunship – a maimed fringe was disfiguring in turian culture, not to mention how much pain an injury to the cartilage would have caused.

He forced his thoughts back to the present, squeezing Jane's hand and looking up at her; her brows were furrowed in concern, but she slowly nodded in response to his nod, and then turned around and slipped her hand out of his grasp. She padded over towards her small clothing locker and started rummaging through it, searching for something to wear.

"I have to go make the rounds. It's" – she checked the time on her Omni-tool – "1600 and Aria wants me to meet her at 1800," Shepard said, as she started to drag on some Alliance casuals.

Garrus stood up from the bed and walked over to her as she finished tugging a shirt over her head; he reached forward and held her by her shoulders, keeping her steady as she shimmied into a pair of pants. Shepard buttoned up the fatigues and then raised her hands, pulling her red hair back into a loose pony tail, searching Garrus's eyes, waiting for his response.

He was focused on her hair though, watching as the ends fell down the slope of her neck.

"Garrus? Is something wrong?" she said cautiously.

He finally looked up at her, his blue eyes piercing into hers as his mandibles flared out in a small smile.

"Just marveling at how different we are. Sometimes I, uh… forget that you don't have the same" – he reached up and gently pulled a talon through the ends of her hair and down her spine causing a shiver to run through her – "parts as a turian female."

Shepard forced herself to smile up at him, hoping that her eyes didn't give her away; she was sure he hadn't meant that in a harsh way – sure that he'd never intentionally hurt her – but she couldn't help how that cut into her, especially since Garrus bluntly stated the obvious.

Garrus cleared his throat and reached out to gently stroke the back of his finger across her cheek and down her jaw. "I'll, uh… be down in the battery. That damn gun _still _needs calibrating," he said, going for the joke, his mandibles splaying out in – what he hoped – was a convincing grin.

She smiled back at him and then sat down on the bed, pulling on her boots; Garrus strode over to her desk, retrieving his visor and securing it over his eye before turning to his armor, all the while his thoughts wandering back to Kandros. He had been struck, all of a sudden, by how much the color of Jane's hair resembled the color of Nyreen's markings. He had always been attracted to that color; the fiery red was fierce, reminding him of ancient warrior Spirits.

_Stop comparing them_, he chided himself for the second time in the past hour.

The chair at her desk scrapped against the ground as Shepard pulled it out, dragging Garrus's attention back to the present. She sat down at her terminal once again and Garrus watched as she sorted through the spam that – somehow – EDI managed to miss, only pausing to read messages from the Alliance and the Council. After getting his armor back on and pulling on one of his gloves, he reached out with his other hand, stroking down her neck with the tip of his talon. She sighed at the sudden contact and tilted her head to the side, the taut muscles pulling under her skin. He rested his hand against the side of her neck, his fingers pressing gently into her shoulder; she was still tense – much more so than she usually was after they'd been together. Product of the war, most likely.

"I'll be down in the battery if you need me, Shepard," he said after a minute, stroking the pad of his thumb down the back of her neck.

"Okay, I'll come by later," she said, turning to glance over her shoulder, meeting his eyes and kissing the back of his hand. He flared his mandibles out in a smile and he stroked down her jaw again, before turning to leave. She heard him palm the controls once the doors slid shut, locking them behind him. He was the only one who ever locked the doors after he left – even she didn't remember to lock them every time; she assumed it was part of the protective instinct turian males were said to have and it caused a small smile to plant itself on her face.

Shepard turned back to her terminal and scanned the remaining messages, before she shut it down and pushed herself up from the chair, her thigh protesting at the effort. She wandered down to the CIC, checking in on Joker, EDI and Traynor, and then took the lift down to the crew deck and cargo hold, telling the rest of the ground squad about the brief shore leave they were getting tonight. After finishing up the rest of her rounds, she opened up a ship-wide comm, informing the remainder of the _Normandy_'s crew.

"This is Shepard. Aria has offered us a few hours of leave while we wait for Alliance command to come retrieve General Petrovsky. All crew members are authorized to depart the _Normandy _for a brief shore leave tonight, from approximately 1800 until 0600 tomorrow morning. We _are _on Omega, so I expect caution when and where necessary; everyone is expected to carry a firearm for personal protection – even non-combatants. Crew is to report back by 0600 tomorrow morning – and, hopefully, not too hung over. There's still a war to win," she said, sighing and closing her eyes against the stress of the war. "Enjoy the few hours. Shepard out."

No matter how much she tried to keep her words strong, to maintain some sense of crew morale, with each passing day, the war felt more and more bleak. How were they supposed to defeat a threat like this? How was _she _supposed to lead a fight against an enemy they weren't even sure could be defeated? She pressed her hands into her eyes, hard enough that white fireworks started erupting behind her lids. It wasn't like she had a choice – she was a soldier and, for some reason, the galaxy seemed to rally behind her; she would fight to the end for each and every being in this galaxy, no matter the cost – but how was she supposed to keep any confidence, any faith, when so much was relying on her every word, her every order; when so many people were trusting her to save them and protect their loved ones… how was she supposed to keep floating above the torrent of hopelessness?

Garrus had called it the "ruthless calculus of war". Ten billion people over here die so twenty billion people over there can live. It just seemed like there were too many sacrifices and not enough victories so far in this war.

_At least I can give my crew a few hours away from the fighting. _

She sighed again and looked down at her omni-tool. 1730 hours. She straightened her spine, trying to force some strength into her posture and turned around, walking carefully down the stairs and towards the lift – her thigh was finally starting to feel better; there was only a slight residual pain left behind, but any remaining discomfort should be gone within the next hour, thanks to her upgrades. Stepping into the elevator, she pressed the controls, signaling the lift to take her down to the crew deck; she carefully stepped off and started off towards the battery, towards the only place – the only person – that could make her feel any better.

* * *

Garrus stared at his console, desperately trying to focus on the firing algorithms for the main gun, but his mind kept drifting back to Kandros. However unlikely it was that this was the same turian biotic, he couldn't seem to drag his thoughts away from the "what ifs" of the situation. What if it was the same Nyreen? What if she was still in Afterlife, helping Aria clean up? What if she had planned on meeting up with Shepard and the _Normandy_'s crew during their shore leave? What if he ran into her? What if… she was still interested in him? It wasn't like they had kept in touch; but, it also wasn't like he hadn't thought about her… even missed her – well, not since joining up with Shepard a few years back; the commander had a way to find the most dangerous missions and nothing else ever seemed worth the brain power to think about when you were teamed up with her. And, then they had started easing tension – dating? – and he had stopped thinking about any of his ex-partners. He and Kandros hadn't even been completely exclusive… they certainly weren't bonded. But, their partnership had been more serious than any of his other relationships. Come to think about it, up until he'd started dating Jane – if what they were doing actually qualified as a relationship – Kandros was the longest partnership he'd ever had.

The door to the battery hissed open and Garrus turned around, meeting Shepard's gaze as she walked in; she looked exhausted.

"Shepard?" he asked, immediately leaving his console and walking over to her, palming the controls to the door; it slid shut and locked, leaving them bathed in the dim lighting of the battery. She walked past him, her head bowed and her shoulder hunched, finally resting heavily on the console overlooking the main gun, closing her eyes.

"I'm okay. Just… tired," Shepard replied before he even had the chance to ask the question. He nodded, rumbling his understanding, and walked up to stand beside her, also gazing out over the Thanix Cannon. A few minutes of silence passed by, each of them lost in their own thoughts, before Garrus shifted a little, closing the distance and letting his arm brush up against hers.

"You know, I'm, ah… supposed to help you relieve stress, but… Well, you look worse now than you did before," he said jokingly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

"That bad, huh?" she asked, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth even though she kept her eyes closed. Shepard heard him rumble and spoke again, before he could try to explain away what he had said. "Trust me, you are the only reason I'm even still in this fight. I can't do this without you, Garrus," she said, finally opening her eyes and looking at him.

"Sure you could. Just… not as stylishly," he said, reaching around her waist, resting his armored hand on her hip and pulling her against his side. She laughed lightly and willingly closed the distance, resting her head in the crook of his arm and focusing on the rise and fall of his chest, on the smell of gun oil, engine grease, and _just Garrus_. He was the only person that she trusted enough to share her doubts with; his arms were the only place she ever felt remotely hopeful, like everything would work out in the end. But, even with him by her side – even with his unwavering loyalty, his unyielding faith, and his tireless reassurances – she still felt like the galaxy was crumbling around her, his arms being the fragile glue that was holding her together.

On top of that, a different worry had come rushing forward again at his mention of stress relief. No matter how farfetched it was, she couldn't help but fear that Aria's ex and Garrus's recon scout were the same turian. She couldn't bring herself to ask – she didn't want to hear that story. Hearing about a past partner was fine when he had first told her that story – she hadn't even given it a second thought – but, now, faced with the possibility, however remote, that Garrus might run into his "flexibility" partner in a bar… that thought unnerved her a bit. The story had been a great opening for their relationship; they probably never would have even thought about "easing tension" together if he hadn't told her that story. But, she didn't want to hear anything else about Garrus's most remembered "sparring partner"; she definitely didn't want to hear about everything that he was missing out on by being with a human. Shutting her eyes against the anxious feeling in her gut, she sighed and forced her thoughts to the back of her mind, disentangling herself from Garrus's arm and pushing herself away from the console. He reluctantly dropped his arm to his side and turned to face her, his mandibles drooping slightly in worry; she seemed… very concerned about something.

"It's almost 1800 hours. I have to go meet up with Bray – one of Aria's people – to go over the details of the General's exchange. Can you lead the shore party to Afterlife? I don't want anyone wandering off on Omega. Cerberus might be dealt with, but, well… you know that station," she said before she closed her mouth and her gaze locked onto the main gun again, regretting immediately that she'd mentioned how well he knew Omega. She didn't want to bring up those two years again, especially after he had acted so agitated about it earlier in the shower.

_The shower… shit. I didn't even ask him if he's okay taking leave here. _

"Garrus, are you… alright even going down to Omega? I should have asked, I just… I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry," she said as she frowned, turning her head to look at him.

"As long as we stick to Afterlife, there shouldn't be any real trouble," he nodded, running his hand down her back, hoping to reassure her. Her brow was furrowed. He sighed as his own brow pulled down, his plates tightening against his forehead in concern; she certainly didn't need to be worrying about him on top of everything else.

"Really, Jane. I'm alright," he repeated, rubbing light circles on the small of her back.

"Okay," she said, smiling gently up at him; dark circles shadowed her eyes and her forcefully relaxed expression looked anything but genuinely tranquil. "Well, whether we stay in Afterlife or not, I don't want any crew members leaving the _Normandy _without some sort of firearm."

"Makes sense," Garrus said after nodding.

Shepard shifted her gaze to the main gun once again and tried to force back all her worries for just a few more minutes. Garrus moved towards her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, dragging her against him and pressing his mouth plates to the top of her head in his best approximation of a kiss. She hummed and another small smile – this one more honest – pulled at the corner of her mouth as she felt his breath flutter between the tresses of her hair. After a couple of minutes, just resting in his arms and savoring the brief moment of calm, she pushed herself away from the console. Garrus reached out and pulled her into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping all the way around her small frame; she melted into the comfort of his arms, her forehead dropping to rest against his carapace.

Why did the galaxy need her to fix their problems? Why couldn't she just get a few days, even a few hours, where she could just let him hold her with nothing coming in between them? She felt him rest his chin on the top of her head, his hands rubbing down her back, his talons just a slight pressure felt through her casuals. Sighing, she finally forced herself away from him and stood up on the tiptoes of her good leg, planting a quick kiss on his mouth plates.

"Meet me at the airlock in ten?" she asked as she settled back on the balls of her feet once again.

"I'll be there," he replied. She nodded and walked out of the battery; the door whooshed shut and she grudgingly made her way to the lift, pressing the controls for the cargo hold. As soon as she stepped out of the elevator, she noticed that majority of the crew was gathered around the weapons benches, grabbing either pistols or SMGs so they had a small firearm to carry with them. She walked over to the weapons bench in the corner where Cortez was fiddling with some component from one of the shuttles; she patted him on the back and reached over, grabbing a spare M-5 Phalanx.

"You comin', Steve?"

"Yeah. I'll be there, Ma'am."

"Good. How about I buy you that drink we were talking about?"

"I'd appreciate that, Shepard," he said, glancing up and smiling at her while nodding in acceptance. She smiled back and gently squeezed his shoulder. She turned back and walked over the group gathered around the main weapons benches, stepping in between Daniels and Donnelly and patting them on the shoulders, which successfully gained most of the group's attention. "Alright, soldiers. Vakarian will be leading the shore party – he knows that station better than most. I have some unfinished Alliance business to attend to first, but I'll be joining you guys after a while. So, don't go wandering off because your commander isn't there to keep you in line," she said, raising her eyebrows and glancing around the group. A few snickers were heard and a very clear "No fun, Lola!" came from the back of the crowd. She smiled, fully this time, happy to see so many of her crew looking forwards to the brief break.

"Anyway, we are leaving for Afterlife in a few, so gather up whatever you need, spread the word, and meet Vakarian up by the airlock." She nodded at the group before turning around and heading back towards the lift, pressing the button for the CIC; a few more crew members stepped in before the doors closed, moving to stand beside their commander as they rode the elevator up. Once the doors opened, Shepard stepped off, the other crew members following behind her as she walked around the galaxy map and up towards the cockpit; Garrus was standing with his shoulder resting against the wall of the airlock, watching her as she walked over to him.

She tried to quell the rush of nerves that came with the thought of leaving him alone on Omega, without her at his back – not because of the scum that may still want Archangel dead; Garrus was a good enough shot to protect himself – but because of a very specific turian that had mentioned needing to find someone, preferably a turian, to ease tension with.

It wasn't that she didn't trust Garrus – she trusted him more than anyone in this messed up galaxy; she trusted him completely with her life, with her heart – but she wasn't sure how he would handle being propositioned. It wasn't that she doubted his loyalty, his commitment to her; Garrus was the most loyal person she'd ever met – as long as he believed, truly, in what he was fighting for. But was there anything to be loyal _to _in their relationship? She knew that he would never hurt her, especially intentionally, but she wasn't sure if, from his point of view, there was anything disloyal about having more than one partner.

She wasn't even sure what their relationship was defined as – there had been too many near death experiences, too many suicide missions, too many distractions to ever talk about it. She knew Garrus cared for her – deeply – but was that care in an _exclusive, you are my soul mate _manner, or care in a _you are my best friend who I'd follow to hell _way? She knew enough about turian culture to understand that they viewed sex more practically and casually than humans typically did; partnerships developed most commonly for physical release and, finally, for procreation – the turian view of sex was much more logical than all of the different taboos humans still associated with casual intercourse. She understood that aspect of turian culture, but somehow, it was still hard to place Garrus in that group; she'd always thought he viewed their relationship as a coupling, solely between the two of them. She'd always expected he understood about the nuances of human relationships, expected that there wasn't anything they needed to talk about because they knew each other, read each other, so well.

But maybe she had misjudged everything; maybe she had just assumed they viewed their relationship the same way and she shouldn't have. Maybe he thought that they weren't exclusive; maybe he didn't realize what she wanted out of this relationship: an equal partnership between the two of them, _just _the two of them. Would it even be disloyal if he accepted another woman's proposition… a turian's proposition to spar? What if it was just that – sparring? Garrus would never intentionally hurt her, she was sure of that; they trusted and cared for each other too much for either of them to betray the other's trust. But, would it be a betrayal – from his perspective – if their relationship was just casual between two friends? Would it be a betrayal if he thought she understood and accepted his culture's casual view of intimacy?

She wasn't sure.

Garrus's visor flickered as Shepard's heart rate flashed across the screen; it was elevated. He took a second look at her and realized that she was fidgeting, twisting her hands absently as she slowly walked over to him. Was she worried about going back down to Omega? She hadn't seemed nervous before she rendezvoused with Aria… Why did she look so anxious now? Was it because he was going back to the station?

Maybe her leg was bothering her – even though she didn't appear to be limping any more. But, maybe she was still in pain. That would explain her elevated heart rate.

"Are you alright, Shepard?" he said as he pushed himself off from the wall, walking a few steps closer to her and gently resting his hand on her bicep while still trying to maintain a not-more-than-friendly distance – not all of the _Normandy_'s crew knew about their _relationship _and both of them tried to keep everything professional outside the confines of her cabin or the main battery.

"Yeah," she said, looking up to him and trying to fight the urge to fidget even more. She didn't want him to start worrying about her; there were already too many fears floating around the crew. But, no matter how unlikely this all was, she couldn't stop the thoughts and worries from floating through her own mind. Shepard nodded and smiled up at Garrus, reaching around and squeezing his forearm lightly.

"Really, I'm okay. I'm going to head out – get this over with now," she said, stepping around his outstretched arm and opening the hatch to the airlock.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you, Shepard? Or at least take someone with you?" he said, a worried trill escaping through his subvocals.

"No, I'll be fine. Bray is meeting me outside the docking bay so I'll have someone with me. Besides, I'm more worried about the crew and you're the only one I trust to keep them safe."

"If you're sure, Commander," he said, nodding at her even as another concerned keen vibrated through the air.

Shepard dipped her head down slightly in a nod and walked through the airlock doors, activating the decontamination protocols; the hatch whooshed closed behind her as the air pressure normalized. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to convince herself that she was overreacting, that there was nothing to even be concerned about. Even if Nyreen was the same turian biotic, Garrus had never indicated that he was less than satisfied with their partnership; he may be careful when they were intimate and he may never completely let go around her, but he had never mentioned wanting anything else. And, he was always honest with her, about everything. If he wanted something else, if he wasn't happy with her, he would tell her, right?

Garrus watched as the airlock closed behind Shepard, cutting off his view. She wasn't even wearing armor and she only had her pistol…

_Spirits, keep her safe. _

An excited shout and a harsh slap on his back alerted Garrus to the crowd gathering behind him.

"Scars! We movin' or what?" Vega said as he strolled over, clapping the turian on the shoulder.

Garrus mumbled something in response and then reopened the hatch, stepping into the airlock and motioning for the others to follow him; he was flanked by Liara who looked slightly apprehensive about leaving the _Normandy _and Vega who looked overly thrilled with the prospect of having a drink or two tonight. The decontamination cycle finished after a few seconds and they stepped out into the stale, recycled air of Omega. Garrus immediately started searching the vicinity for any sign of Shepard or the batarian, but the docking area was empty – at least, there were no living people in dingy hallway; there were a quite a few Cerberus troopers sprawled on the ground, bullet holes riddling various parts of their bodies. He strode a few steps away from the _Normandy_ and towards the doors that led out into the station, marking every motionless figure and checking that no one was hiding behind any of the old crates or the low walls.

Spirits, he hated this rock.

Satisfied that the docking bay was free from any immediate threats, Garrus turned around and watched as the rest of the crew departed the ship. Liara walked up to him, gently placing her hand on his arm.

"She'll be alright, Garrus," the asari said softly, squeezing his forearm in support; Liara always seemed to know exactly what everyone was thinking – she'd always had a knack for reading people. Though, he guessed that after a few years as an information broker and with her new position as the Shadow Broker, she was probably better than most at this point. He grunted and nodded as his mandibles flared out briefly before fixing themselves firmly against his jaw, his eyes still focused on the crew members slowly stepping out through the airlock.

Once everyone was off the _Normandy_, Garrus started towards the doors that opened out into the station, his hand gripping his pistol; he pressed the controls and the doors slid open, a fresh rush of Omega's stench flowed into the docking bay. A few of the crew members – the few that had never stepped foot on this station before – covered their mouths and noses with their hands. To Garrus, it was just the constant scent of scrounge and filth that littered this station; a scent that he had long since gotten used to but never failed to make him nauseous.

Garrus took one step through the doors and immediately stopped dead in his tracks – it had only been a few hours since Shepard had returned; she _had_ said that Cerberus had completely overtaken the station, but nothing could have prepared him for _this. _There were dead Cerberus troopers everywhere, mechs lying in pieces all along the walkways, piles of ash scattered across the streets, and a few too many civilian bodies being carried away – presumably to be buried either in a shallow grave in one of the outlying districts of the station or spaced, as was the protocol for unnamed and unclaimed dead. The bright signs that usually advertised Afterlife or one of the numerous illegal dealerships in the market were sporadically flashing the Cerberus emblem, intermingled with phrases regarding the human occupation of the station.

After a quick scan of the immediate area, searching for any sign of hostiles, Shepard, or the batarian – or a female turian with bright red markings – Garrus started across the dingy street towards the nightclub. There where scorch marks on the road and one rather large pile of what looked to be ash – though, if the smell the black soot was giving off was any indication, it was more likely burnt flesh than any sort of gun or explosive powder. No one was paying their group much mind as they crossed the street, heading towards Afterlife; there weren't the usual guards standing watch outside the entrance of the club, so Garrus strode straight up the steps while Liara glanced around nervously. He palmed the control to the club and the doors shook slightly, before creaking open. Garrus remembered that Shepard had said they were invited to VIP section, and for a moment, he wondered why not the main area of Afterlife; but that soon became painfully apparent. He planned on taking the crew through the club and out a back door, rather than trying to navigate through Omega's markets. Garrus stepped passed ruined chairs and scattered thermal clips before coming to the end of the hallway, to another set of doors; there was a small gap in between each of the metal slabs, almost like someone had pried them open. He heaved his shoulder against one of the doors while Vega pushed the other back, widening the gap enough to allow the rest of the crew to pass through. Vega followed Traynor through the doors and into the club and Garrus threw himself through the doors before they groaned closed again.

Nothing about the large room even resembled Afterlife.

The large platform that usually held multiple dancers was gone and replaced by… what had to have been the stasis generators Shepard mentioned; the bars lining the walls of the club were all destroyed, chairs were knocked over, tables thrown haphazardly up against the walls, dead Cerberus troopers lay in awkward positions on the stairs in each corner club, and Aria's _throne… _Cerberus had installed doors on either side of the balcony, effectively cutting off the small room from the rest of the club. The most jarring thing about the ruined nightclub was the ominous lack of the thrumming bass that always played through the speakers and the lack of the bustling drunk patrons.

He carefully glanced around the room once again, ensuring that none of the troops were still alive, before finally striding over to a side door. The group made their way out the back and started off towards the VIP section of Afterlife, turning down one eerily silent hallway after another.

Vega jogged ahead after a minute, coming to stand beside Garrus as he matched the turian's pace, stride for stride.

"So, Scars… you gonna get some tonight?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows at the turian. Garrus heard a small, breathy giggle from Liara on his other side and he had to resist the urge to roll his eyes and ask the young marine what exactly he was implying. Vega was one of the few who actually knew about him and Shepard – though, it was unknown how serious he thought their relationship was. But the mental image of what the marine was insinuating… he hadn't felt this stressed and wound up after _sparring _in years and he did not need his mind running wild with the thought that he might get another round later tonight. Garrus took a deep breath and tried not to think about Nyreen; if she was the same turian, if she wanted to spar…

_Stop it, Vakarian. It's not even her, so just stop thinking about it._

"You know," the lieutenant continued, "I've heard those asari dancers are very limber. Almost as flexible as humans…"

Garrus groaned inwardly. Why was it that everyone seemed to be reminding him of that one particular sparring partner in every way possible today? He knew Vega didn't know about that story and that he was just "pulling his leg" as Shepard said, but the untimely mention of flexibility grated on his nerves. He was, thankfully, saved from responding because the burly human man decided to try and bait the asari to Garrus's right.

"Hey, Blue! Did you dance in your maiden days?" he said, winking at her across Garrus's chest. She scoffed and rolled her eyes, but Garrus caught a glimpse of a small smile, pulling at the corner of her lips.

"I'm still _in_ my maiden stage, James," Liara said, focusing her attention straight ahead as they continued walking.

"So… that a yes?" James asked, suddenly looking very enthusiastic.

Liara responded with a smart-mouthed comment, prompting Vega to hoot and holler a bit as they continued to walk towards the private section of the club; Garrus just smiled to himself and let the two of them keep on with their teasing banter. He glanced down, checking the time on his Omni-tool; it was just past 18:15, not nearly enough time to for Shepard to finish up her Alliance business.

Garrus rounded the last corner, the crew following behind him, and came up on the set of stairs that led into the underbelly of the nightclub. A batarian guard took one look at their group and buzzed them in – no doubt Shepard had mentioned that he would be leading the shore party, ensuring they wouldn't be kept out in the grimy streets of the city. He glanced behind the group as they started to filter inside the club, hoping to see any sign of Shepard; that was a dim hope, though. Figuring out the politics behind prisoner exchange was never simple and straight forward – even less so out here in the Terminus.

Sighing when he didn't see her, Garrus followed Liara inside and immediately started scoping out the place, looking for anything that seemed remotely out of place or troublesome. This room looked untouched by Cerberus for the most part; the thrumming music was playing through these speakers – the same Spirits-awful thunderous bass that he'd heard on the first night of his tenure on this station, and then, every subsequent visit to the club. There were bartenders behind all the counters, individuals of every species lounging around tables and at the bars, and already a slew of civilians on the dance floor, waving their arms in the air and trying to dance their troubles away. The crew all glanced around the circular room and then started breaking off to go their separate ways, most pairing up with at least one other person – Garrus silently prayed that the crew would at least get some sort of relief tonight, whether just by drinking the night away or finding a partner for the few short hours; Spirits knew everyone on the _Normandy _deserved some peace.

Vega latched on to Liara's arm, whispering something to the extent of "You've got to have _some _moves…" and started dragging her towards the dance floor; the asari looked back over her shoulder, meeting Garrus's eyes and mouthing "I'm sorry!" as she was being pulled away. He nodded in response, another small smile pulling at his mandibles as he watched the two of them make their way towards the center of the dance floor. He turned his gaze back to the patrons of the club; nothing seemed amiss. But, he did see quite a few turians in armor with – from what he remembered about the gangs on Omega – what looked like Talon emblems on the arm and chest pieces. He drew in a deep breath, trying to stem his nerves as he repeated in his mind, over and over, "It isn't the same Nyreen."

Garrus circled the room, twice, scoping everything out – there was just the one entrance so he didn't need to worry about anyone sneaking in from another side. And there was still no sign of his commander. Garrus reluctantly made his way over to a bar, sitting down off to the side and making sure that he had a clear view of the one doorway; his view of the rest of the club was effectively cut off, but he hadn't seen anyone in the club that looked suspicious so his attention was only focused on those that would be arriving.

The turian bartender behind the bar was wiping off glasses and looked up as a stool scraped across the floor; Garrus nodded to the older turian and ordered a shot of the strongest dextro brandy they had, which he promptly downed. He shifted and glanced around again, his eyes finally landing on the doorway.

Still no sign of Shepard.

He turned back towards the bar again; the bartender was looking at him with a cocked head, his eyes flashing between Garrus's visor and the scarring along the right side of his face.

"You look familiar… Been in here before?" the older male said as he continued to clean off glasses behind the counter.

"Not in a while. Too soon if you ask me," Garrus replied, motioning for another round.

The bartender laughed, flaring his mandibles out in a grin; he reached down and pulled out a bottle of whisky, showing the label to the younger turian. Garrus hummed and nodded his head; actual turian whisky, not simply a generic dextro liquor.

"I hear that," the bartender said as he pulled out a fresh glass and poured Garrus a generous helping of the whisky. "You part of that human female's crew Aria was talking about?"

"Yeah," Garrus said, trying to keep the answers short and sweet, to the point. It was doubtful that anything bad would come from telling the bartender anything – anything that could endanger him, the crew, or Shepard – but, after all his time on Omega, if there was one thing this station taught him, it was don't trust anyone. Garrus took a sip of the whisky, cringing, his mandibles widening in shock, as it burned down his throat; the bartender smirked and grabbed a glass of his own, pouring himself a more conservative serving of the liquor.

"How's that work – serving under a human? I hear they don't… ah, view military service the same way," he asked, taking a sip of his own, then setting down his drink and turning his attention back to the glasses behind the bar.

"It's different. But Shep… ah, the commander accommodates her non-human crew members pretty well given the circumstance," Garrus said, remembering at the last minute to call Jane by her title while in public, rather than the informal – and, disrespectful from turian standards – way he typically referred to her. Not only was it considered disrespectful to take military rank for granted, but Shepard didn't want their relationship broadcasted to many people, and Garrus was uncertain how other turians would respond to their friendship, their partnership. He took another sip of the whisky and glanced back over at the door.

Still nothing.

_Where is she? _he thought as he quickly swallowed the rest of his drink.

"Still, can't be easy… That why you came down here? Blow off some steam?"

Garrus huffed. "Yeah, stress relief. On Omega."

The bartender laughed. "True," the bartender said, pouring Garrus another liberal helping and then taking a small sip of his own.

The older turian continued to study Garrus as he absently cleaned off glass after glass, his hands finding the next one without so much as a downward glance; Garrus's eyes were planted on the door, praying to the Spirits that she would walk through them. After a few silent minutes, the bartender spoke up again.

"You know, it's not often we see someone your age down here – most are either young hotshots trying to run from their duty or old, ex-military trying to find other work. Your age…" he trailed off, eyeing the left side of Garrus's neck meaningfully, staring at the dip between his neck and shoulder. It took Garrus a second to realize what the older turian was looking for: his bondmark.

"Yeah, never got around to finding a mate," Garrus said, taking another small sip of the whisky and meeting the bartender's eyes.

_I did find her, she just doesn't know._

The other turian rumbled, his mandibles flaring out in question. "No? You're military, young enough. Serving with the 'hero of the galaxy' has got to do something for your name – even if she is human."

Garrus chuckled. "Not like I have much of a choice in partners with these scars – sort of messed up my face."

"How'd that happen, anyway?" the bartender asked, eyeing him almost suspiciously. In all honestly, Garrus wouldn't be surprised if he'd heard stories about Archangel and what the vigilante had looked like – it was amazing what bartenders could gather from simply watching their patrons, not to mention what some people would let slip after a few drinks.

"Rocket to the face," Garrus replied simply.

The older turian hummed in thought again, before continuing to wipe off a few more glasses. Garrus just watched him, wondering what his story was: had he simply lost his way when he was young and just never escaped from this hellhole; or, was he himself one of the ex-military he'd mentioned?

An amused trill escaped the bartender and Garrus looked up from where he'd been watching the bartender's hands, meeting the older male's gaze in question.

"Scars or not, there's a beauty behind you admiring your fringe – you may get lucky tonight, Soldier."

Garrus swallowed, his eyes widening slightly, and he downed the rest of his whisky before slowly turning around, meeting the piercing yellow eyes of Nyreen Kandros.

* * *

**She's here! I can't wait to write the next few chapters! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'd love to know what you thought! Thank you!**


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